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RIVER OF THOUGHTS 



BY 
OLIVER f^^J^ 



(fsiuJU^^* U^M^M~y+ J 



PRIVATELY PRINTED 
NEW YORK 






Copyright, 1911, by 
CHARLOTTE HOYT 



CI. A 2 924 73 



River of Thought 



Dear, dear, dear, what have I done? 
I've written some poems, one by one. 
Until now they run far out of my life, 
Out into this great world of love and strife. 
I pray God they may bring a loving thought 
. From the world, and on its wing, 
Just a tiny. song that I can sing. 

Cheer, always cheer, let it ring out clear! 

So that the world may hear, 

And thou shalt bring to thyself a world of cheer I 

Dear little children, so free from care, 
How they sigh and wish they were grown-ups ! 
With an air, and a pocket-book tall, 
And no need to give an account 
Of the money they spend, 
Just to buy all the candy and loly-pops, 
That is all. 

They dream not the sorrow and care, 
That comes with the air and the pocket-book tall. 
They know not that the air oft covers 
A heart that is broken and scarred. 
And a pocket-book that is ever so tall, 
Cannot bring happiness, no not at all ! 
I 



I stood for woman's rights, but woman's rights 
Are men! And there is no need to stand for 

them. 
They just turn, and twist and bend, 
To the droop of an eyelash, and wonder 
Which way you are going to wend. 
O no, my dear, there is no need to stand for 

them. 



O that I had a thousand tongues to sing 

The glories of my God, 

Who is perfect harmony, life and love. 

In his presence is a most sublime blending 

Of color, tone, and the perfume of countless 

flowers, 
All creating an atmosphere of exquisite light, 
That bears the soul on its clouds, 
Never changing, never ceasing; 
The result of perfect harmony. 

O for more expressive words, in which to sing 
The glories of my God! 



Dreaming, my soul, thou must give up 

Thy dreaming! For right soon thou wilt have 

A part to play, in God's world of to-day! 



Come one, come all, and join me 
In this great, grand march, to the Highest of 
All ! 






The year is fast departing, that has been to thee 

Such a wealth of love and cheer, 

And also thou hast had thy days that have been 

drear ; 
But my soul, canst thou for one moment 
Pit the drear against the cheer? No. 
And as the year draws on, to gently merge 
Into the coming one. Thy soul shall receive 
A new blessing, a hundredfold, 
Stronger, finer, than of old ! 

Dainty pretty little elves, I see, 
Dancing there so free. 
Come let us join them, you and me, 
And perhaps they will whisper songs of wisdom 
They bring from o'er the sea. 
If we join their dance so free, 
Just you and me ! 

In the coming shadowy nights, 

Thou shalt see strange gleaming lights 

That will awaken in thee a latent power, 

Which thou must bring forth, 

So that others may see; and profit by the light 

That God has given to thee ! 

Death, What is death? The victory 
Of mind over body. The loosening of cords 
That bind to this earthly condition, 
And the mind or soul soars on 



To its higher life. Some gain the higher life 
On this plane, but not many can hold, 
As the vibrations are exceedingly fine. 



Death, Why Death is a tiny clog, 
In the wheel of life ! 



Death is the release of the soul 

From its bondage to all earthly conditions. 

Death is when the body, or earthly shell 
Loses its perfect harmony of movement. 
Sooner or later follows, what we call Death. 

There dwelt on a lonely hill 
A shepherd and his sheep. 
He tended them with infinite care 
But they alas, would stray 
Far, far away, and not 
By their shepherd's side would they stay. 
He had many a bruised foot 
And aching heart, but his love 
Did always sway. 

The night time is here, I must rest 

My body ; but my soul, O how it longs to stay. 

Where all is peace, and hushed 

Is the bustle and hum of day. 

So good night, my love, 



I bow my head upon thy pages 
For a blessing from above. 

my love, art thou coming to bend thy knee, 
To pray my love for thee? 

1 will give thee all thou ask 

If thou wilt only stand out free. 

Hast thou learned thy lesson well? 

Dost thou love thy God, 

And among his angels dwell? 

Hast thou caught the whisperings 

Or are they from thy soul still with-held? 

O thou sweet entrancing soul, 
Thou art to me an everlasting joy 
Always responding to the faintest call. 
Always vibrating to the highest of all! 

There comes a line of soldiers 
Marching on their way 
To the time of the death march 
For a soul that has flown away. 
They should lift their heads, 
And march to a tune more gay, 
For the soul is with God 
And is not laid away! 

All the witches gather in the night, 
To send forth their charms 
To either blight the life, or kill it 
5 



Outright. So my soul, thou shouldest always 
Have a light, to drive away their charms 
From out thy sight. 

Thou must not make thy numbers too high ; 
Rather give breadth, length and depth 
To those already inscribed. 

Death, my children, transports the soul 
To an infinite love, and everlasting 
Harmony of surroundings. 

Joy is that uplifting of the soul 

Caused by the sudden accession of a desire. 

A crown of thorns is truly ours 
But each prick should add a star 
To guide us on our way to God. 

Life, as we count it, is a vast experience 
But the soul that lives not up 
To what is the individual mark, 
Or highest conception, has missed 
The purpose for which he or she 
Was permitted to work out this sphere. 
No two have the same conception as to the high- 
est 
A-nd each only is held responsible 
For the height their mind and soul can grasp. 



Life is an exciting contest. 

Each striving to be the better man. 

Why do we close our eyes 

To the beauties of our daily life, 

And see only the strife. 

Truly, life is grand, 

Whether we are called to a high position 

Or a very lowly part. 

Life is a garden of flowers 

Or a path of thorns, 

All according to our range of view. 

He will surely fall, 
Who has for his motto, 
"Gain for self." 

He who counts show, money, 

Pomp and position, 

Loses all the higher, finer things of life. 

Work out? All things work out, 

Either to our advantage or disadvantage 

All according to the thought that conceived them. 

Destiny is a strange thing 

But I have witnessed so many destinies 

7 



Worked out, I can but believe 
That we each fall into line. 



Self-centred people are blind 
To the virtues, one and all. 

Content, O my soul, never be content, 
But rather always strive 
To gain a higher step ! 

Strike out, with thy firm, right arm, 

Dare the heights. 

Think not any task too large, 

For remember there is always one 

Who stands at the top. 

Why not thou be that one? 

The steady march goes on, it never pauses, 
For a soul that drops to die. 
The space is filled, and none are missed, 
Ere once they die ! 

Dear little fairies of the dale 

How I wish I could wander forth 

And hear your tales of travel over sea and land. 

In the shell or flower, you can sail 

Or be blown so free, all the wonders 

And sights to see! My dear little 

Elf-like fairies, of the land and sea. 

8 



Some day I wonder, if to me 

You will impart the secret of your finest art, 

Of tinting all the fairy shells and dells, 

And of making the golden nectar 

That I love so well. Dear little fairies ! 

Will you tell me just one secret 

That I can keep locked up safely in my soul ? 

Whisper it so gently, so that only thee and me 

Shall know, 

; ! I "l 

O my Queen of the fairy dell, 

Thou in thy gossamer of finest gold 

Reflecting all the tints of the sunbeams bold. 

Thou Queen of a thousand fold 

Of dear little fairies, all speeding on wings 

Of silver and gold, to bring to thy feet 

The knight-errants who are not quite enough 

bold, 
To offer their swords of grasses so tall, 
And so sharp, they would pierce to the heart 
Any enemy who sought to do thee a harm 
Of no matter how small a part. 
O thou fairy Queen of my heart. 

Watch all your paths on the coming days 
Of snow and cold, as you will meet 
With many foes, in guise of friendship deep. 
But watch you well, my friend, and you will 

reap 
The sowing of the gods, in gold. 



I shall praise the Lord in all his works 

In every smallest part. 

His glory I shall pour in every heart. 

Praise the Lord, O my soul, 

Sing out with joy for this gladsome morn. 

For this beauteous day's fair dawn. 

The earth in all sings out its praise of God. 

The trees, the grass, the birds, 

The waters even dance with joy. 

So my soul, be not afraid 

To sing forth all thy songs of joy. 

In Dublin Town there is a maid 

Of beauty I admire. 

But Alack, alas ! I fear " me lass " 

Has eyes for other crowns, 

Mine being only the wild field flowers; 

But true and honest in its name, 

No pretense of fine setting. 

But . . . 



I long so, my darling 

To take you from all care or thought unkind. 

To put you in a castle up so high 

Far beyond the reach of all 

That would in any way impair 

Your vision of your God. 



My soul, rest upon thy God, 
He will guide thee and thine. 



lb 



Whate'er is for thee, 

Has been written many, many years, 

In the Book Divine. 

Thou must walk the path laid out for thee 

And remember, thou canst only see 

With the depth of vision 

Thy God has given to thee ! 

I look upon the world with widening eyes. 

This new world, with such vast 

And progressing enterprise. 

None of the Old World's calm and stately walk, 

All here is rush, and hustle, and bustle, 

From sunrise to sunrise; and so on through the 

years 
Till centuries are piled. 
Then I hear some new worlds will arise, 
And in them will go on, the never teasing en- 
terprise. 

The morning's light has brought thee 

To a world of troubled skies. 

They are but fleeting clouds 

That in all lives will arise. 

And soon thy skies will show a rosy light 

Which shall reflect, and bring thee 

To a haven of brightest light. 

Dear little children, 
I wonder what have they to say? 
They probably think could they have their way, 
n 



This world would be all candy, and sunshine, 

and play. 
With a few snow storms thrown in, so that they 
On their sleighs could away, 
And some snowballs, with which to play. 
The ocean to them is a never ending joy, 
And on its shores they forever could stay, 
These dear little children who should have only 

play. 

I pray that the time will come 

When we grown-ups shall realize 

The very best way to train a child, 

Is to live with them, work with them 

And above all, to play with them, 

So that we ourselves can remain a child. 

We all go marching on to the tune that fits our 

souls, 
Be it sombre or gay; and sometimes we pause 

to gather, 
A few stray songs by the way. 
Whether they add to our happiness, it is hard 

to say. 
These departures from our own, right way. 

Thou must not burden thy pages of life, 

With too much of thy friends' sorrow and 

strife. 
They will not thank thee, but rather turn and 

leave thee 
For something far more bright. 

12 



All things will round out soon, 

Into lines most harmonious for thee. 

Thy soul will not atortured be 

From the everlasting cry of duty, 

Scon thou shalt be free, 

To walk the paths which thy God desires. 

Paths of brightness, O my soul for thee. 

I know where a treasure is hidden 
Away, so deep. Could I but bring it forth 
For thee, My joy would be complete. 

What is written in the book of fate 
Cannot be changed, even though all the angels 
Should strive and struggle, and change thy fate, 
It would still be thy fate! 

Bully for the boy with the green tie ! 

Who is out to breakfast on time, 

With his eyes so bright, his hair all combed, 

And his heart full of rhyme, 

Which he sings forth all the time! 

My love, enough of sadness, 

Now for tears of joy and gladness. 

I will sing a song to thee 

That will make thy heart rebound 

And bring a smile of pleasure 

At my madness ! 



13 



Thou art worth more than all the jewels 
That fill a thousand crowns. 
Thy soul is pure, thy heart is true, 
Thy mind is clear, and to thy God 
Thou hast given His due ! 

Love runs on, though the world stands still, 
So remember, my dear, thou canst not always 
Have thy will ! 

Surround thyself with all the flowers 
Thou canst — for in so doing 
Thou dost bring angel visitants 
From God, on holy wing. 

The world shall better be for a talk with thee. 

Thine own soul will expand, 

And thou shalt dwell with me, and I with thee ! 

Come, fairies, come, and tell me some tales 
To lighten my tone of life. 
It is now too sober and sombre of hue, 
And my view is of nought but strife. 
Come, fairies, come, and tell me 
Of thy sweet bright life. Thy dance 
And revel carry nought of strife. 
Only the lighter side of life. 
Thy tone is of purple, gold and silver hue, 
Thy view is one of a constant changing delight 
In the softly, silvery, sparkling stars 
14 



And moon of light. 

So come darling fairies, and tell me of thy life 
In the night. Come, fairies, come, 
And tell me some tales of thy heart's delight. 
Come, fairies, come! 

Thanksgiving Day is near, 

I for one shall praise and be of cheer. 

The lordly turkey shall adorn my board, 

Which will be filled with the winter's choicest 

hoard, 
Of flowers, fruit, and all things gay, 
The nuts and leaves of brownest hue 
All interspersed with the yellow and scarlet tone 
Will make a picture not for mine eyes alone, 
But for my friends from far and wide, 
Who with their grace and beauty my home 
Shall adorn. We shall be thankful, merry and 

gay, 
Or perchance a little sad, just as our souls 
Respond to the chord of the day; 
And I pray that God will bless all the world 
On this coming Thanksgiving Day. 

I know a little boy who loves ice cream 
His name I dare not dream to write 
Upon this pad. If he should ever get enough 
I would be happy, and so glad. 

To the West, to the West ! 
Always my mind travels, to the West. 
15 






What has it in store for me? 
There must be a strong compelling force 
That I shall meet some day. 
Will it meet me? Or shall I have to go 
All the way. 

Who knows what the day will bring? 
A full share of sorrow and pain? 
Or a day of unutterable things. 
But if we rise with the dawn, 
We shall catch the first sweet thoughts 
Of the morn. 



The morning light is breaking 

Through the clouds of night, and slowly 

Coming into view, are all the beauteous 

Things of day. The faintest glowing 

Of the sun's warm light 

Shedding on all a rosy hue. 

The woods are filled with birds' sweet song, 

Showing their joy of the coming dawn. 

We should all be up and doing, 

And join with them in the gladsome song. 

There is a song in the wild woods free, 
That I fain would catch for thee. 
'Tis a sweet, wild air of love and purity. 
It caresses and soothes the tired, 
And puts one's soul in harmony of love and 
thought. 

16 



It takes one to God's most infinite heart. 
O that I could bring it to thee S 
Thou love of my heart ! 

My vigil I am keeping with the early dawn. 
My Light of Love, come down! 
And pour a blessing on my head, to make 
A crown of glory, 

That the world may read the sweetness 
Of thy story ! 

Crowns of glory are for thee, 
If thou but stand out bold and free, 
To strive forever for the right. 

Trust! But look you well to the eyes so deep, 
They mirror the soul that is within their keep. 

The rain is beating on the window-pane, 
With a steady strain 
Of music soft and low. 
It brings refreshing life 
To all things growing up so brave, 
In spite of heat, and drought 
And lack of proper care. 
So beat on thy melodious strain 
O welcome rain ! 

Well, my friends, I am once more 
My old straight self. 



17 



Free from all the dragging things 

That have clung and pulled me down so far. 

So far, I feared me once 

I ne'er should rise, to see 

The light of brighter skies. 

But I am free to rise at will, 

To soar far above their skies. 

And now I shall proceed to rise, 

And rise, and rise, 

And by my suffering, I shall have gained 

A firmer stand, a clearer light, 

In which to view the land. 

Fading, fading, are all our hopes 

Of progress far and wide. Perchance 

There is a lesson yet to learn. 

Small and insignificant to us 

But including all, a life. 

So we must take what comes our way, 

And never murmur, or repine, 

And suddenly before us will stand, 

What most we had in mind. 

Dainty little raindrops, coming out of where? 
How deliriously soft and gentle 
Are thy pourings out of love, and light 
To everywhere. 

Everywhere thy grace doth fall, 
Springs new life, in answer to thy call, 
Dainty little raindrops, coming out of where? 
18 



Travel, travel, O my, how we do constantly 
travel ! 

To lose ourselves amid new surroundings and 
people. 

But we always find the same little traits of char- 
acter 

In every part of earth and people. 

O my soul, fly out to liberty and truth. 
To love and life, beyond this narrow plane. 
Beyond these sordid cares of daily life and 
strife. 

O that I had eyes to see 

Beyond the clouds that now seem dense 

And piled about with blackness so intense, 

That not the faintest glimmer of color 

Or of light, can penetrate my sight, 

Or bring me into God's most glowing light. 

Glory be to all on earth, 
Glory be to them that praise the Lord! 
By doing deeds of kindness and of love, 
For all that walk within the paths of life and 
light ! 

The day is far on its declining way, 
My heart has been sorely tried, 
My friend whom I thought was all in all, 
Is only a sham of clay. 
19 



Content, ah my soul, 

Do you know what content consists of? 

Nothing but a pure, perfect heart 

Gives content, and you find one 

To every million people. 

The Divine Spark, once lighted, 

Is never quenched. 

It may be smothered or hidden, 

Far out of sight, 

But at the slightest fanning 

Of light and love, 

It will burst into a glorious flame. 

My heart flies out to thee, my love. 

Wilt thou catch it on its wing 

And tenderly, O so tenderly caress 

And sing sweet themes of low, long melody, 

So that it may return to me 

With a life-long theme. 

Time, time, is gliding swiftly by, 

On the wings of the wild winds high. 

And we who have planned the duties and cares 

Are wondering to where does it fly. 

The exquisite tones of the setting sun 
As they blend so into harmonious clouds, 
Draw the soul and the life to higher planes of 
thought. 

20 



To linger with the evening star, 

As it shines out so clearly 

Above the fast departing tones of light. 

To watch the other stars come slowly into view, 

In the now fast darkening sky of night. 

The Sea is wild, and dashes with a fury 
Bold and strong; and cuts upon the rocks 
To dash itself in foam. 
There stands a figure, lone, upon the sand, 
Above the foam, and looks far out to sea, 
The wind is sweeping o'er the waves 
So wild and free. The sky is darkening 
With a cold and steely hue, and all things 
Portend a heavy storm. 
But the figure stands so straight, and still 
Looks out to sea. Nought but the storm within, 
Does he hear or see — for the elements 
Cannot war more strongly than his soul and he. 

The storm breaks with terrific force, 
But never a step takes he, 
For still he gazes far out to sea. 
The storm is spent, the forces are lost 
But still stands he, as if carved of the rock. 
The sky is clearing, the winds die away. 
The waves are subsiding to a gentle roll; 
But still stands he, and he fights with his soul, 
Utterly lost to the world's mad roar, 
His face still turned to the sea, 
He battles on for victory. 
21 



The night falls in shade, a single star 

Appears in the dimming light. 

A star sent forth from God 

To help him in the fight — and at last, 

That figure of stone is turned to life. 

Come in the wild woods, Love, 

And see the things of God. 

They are still untamed, 

And in a riotous game of happy heart, 

They trill and sing their part. 

So come, my love, 

In the wild woods come, 

And learn of thy God's heart of hearts. 

I wish I might do something fine 
And to the hearts of men incline 
The loving wisdom of their God. 

The wildness of the storm is fine and grand, 

It draws me out to revel in its cleansing power, 

Freeing the air of all its lurid growth. 

The wild wind draws me to its lair. 

O, how I love the voicing of its song 

Among the trees, its swaying of the boughs, 

These blessed wild wind storms of our. 



Thoughts that fly and travel with us 
Are messengers of love, and a strong power 
For good — or evil ones, that beat us down 
22 



To lower planes of thought 
Equal only to their own. 

Dainty thoughts that fly, 

Poise your wings for an instant's rest 

So that I can catch the breath 

Of the theme. 

» 

Beautiful thoughts, they come to me 
With their sweet refreshing balm. 
They anoint my soul with their incense fine 
And lead me, gently lead me, 
To God's most heavenly clime. 

Very gently o'er me steals 

A mist to hide my view. 

My soul floats out and on, 

In an exquisite hue, 

To God's most loving heart, so true. 

Waiting, waiting, 
Till the last long note 

is drawn. 
Then I will take thee home with me, 
To dwell in perfect peace, 
Of love and harmony. 

Turning the pages of life 
Is like reading an exciting novel. 
If we look too far ahead, 
23 



All the interest is lost. 

We can have a glimmer of the sequel, 

But the very uncertainty is a spur 

Which keeps the hope alive, 

Of a fair, high ending. 

my Soul, what is in the heart, 
That stirs to everlasting strife. 

The subtle art of making all things seem 

In darker light. That puts the touch 

Of malice in the sweetest strain, 

That turns all things to their own gain. 

But it is all in vain. 

It will sometime later turn them 

To sorrow and to shame. 

The evil shafts that they would send 

To hurt and wound the friend, 

Will turn and send their stinging darts 

Straight home; home, where they will rest and 

rend. 
So I pray my soul, send out a cleansing thought 
To free their heart! 

'Tis cold and cheerless, and I find nought to do 
But huddle close to self, after my vain attempt 
To find the warmth of love so true. 
My poor body is not of use, for tramping 
In the woods, so fine and bright of hue, 

1 can only take a very distant view. 
My vision is narrowed down just now, 
By the everlasting cry and hue of countless 

24 



Household duties, every day so new — 
Springing up so strongly, and so plainly into 

view 
And their cry will not be silenced, until 
I have marshalled other forces to their due. 

But soon my view will be extended 
To a bright entrancing scene, of all the beauties 
Of the season's scarlet sheen 
Viewed from a mountain road, high above 
The ocean's ever restless roll ; 
Then my thoughts will wander ever o'er to thee 
My faithless love ; for my love once given 
Is as true as steel, as pure as gold, 
And not as changeable as the winds of Heaven. 
I will pray that happy thou shalt be, 
In thy latest choice of loves, so free — 
But my love will ever go to thee, 
To bring a blessing from thy God, 
Whom thou dost not see. 



Whither, whither, little maiden 

Are you going on so fast. 

You have scarcely left the nursery fields 

Yet the wisdom you display 

To beguile your way 

Would do justice to a foreign diplomat. 



Compensation is the one redeeming thing of all 
the earth. 



25 



Roses are for you and me my friend. 
All we have to do is to gather them. 
Never think they grow too high, 
Or too many thorns are nigh. 

Soul of light and love, 
I am in deep despair, 
That thou shouldst have 
A sorrow or a care. 

Pure things are put forth clearly 
Needing no veiling of fine language. 

Colleen, colleen, come to me. 

I love you. Do you love me? 

If so, we could go, all the way in tune. 

Music! What can express the harmonious 

blending 
Of the notes. 

To a sensitive soul it carries an ether, 
Wrapping itself about the body like a velvet 

cloud, 
Transporting one to such bliss of thought 
As to almost suspend life. 

The theme of love is the sweetest ever played 
upon. 



26 



I am so weary of the passing strife, 
Till my soul is stung to action. 
Then comes light ! 

All bright thoughts 
Have a stimulating effect 
On the soul and body 
So cultivate cheeriness. 



No more weighing, clinging thoughts will affect 
me 

For I am free, free, free! 
Free as the birds of the air, to go everywhere, 

For no more have I to bear ! 
Do you hear me in my triumphant song, 
That I sing as I fly along? Free, free, free! 
The shackles have gone, that bound me 
With their heavy weights, and now I can rise, 
rise, rise 

And grasp the prize 
That has been just beyond my reach. 
I can teach God's glory and love, with the help 

Of all the angels above. 
For I am free, free, free, and to God only, 

Shall my accounting be. 
I who have lived in sorrow and care, 
Bound and trodden under by those who dared. 
With none to lift a hand, or by my side to 

stand. 
But I have fought my battles, and won, and 
henceforth 

27 



My life shall be even as the very sun. 

And cast its brightness to everyone. 
For I am free, free, free! 

Faith is the dearest thing on earth. 
All things are worked out by faith. 

The day is warm, the air is misty 
With the haze that portends of summer. 

We do all our charities with a brass band, 
Loud, and proclaiming our coming most indel- 
icately. 

One short life, and then 

We gain the everlasting hills. 

Inspirations, what are they? 

Only the whisperings of God and love. 

Trouble, what is trouble? 
Nothing,' unless we so make it. 

The best of everything 
Lies in the soul receiving. 

In this building, years from now, 
Will stand a monument to thee, 
28 



A tribute to fame and name, 
And for a love of thy soul 
Which will shine forth as gold, 
And shall live for centuries, 
Thy stories, the sweetest ever told. 

Weaving in and out, weaving in and out, 
So go all our thoughts from inside out. 

Controlled by a power of love divine 

Thy work shall far outshine, 

Those of bolder, haughtier mien 

For thou art a part of the Highest Unseen. 

And thy sweetness and beauty 

Shall stand forth clear, 

Undimmed by a single tear. 

Thou darling of the gods ! 

Thou most blessed darling of the gods! 

To-night, ah to-night, thy star is bright, 
So watch it well ere the day's bright light 
Hide it far from thy view. 
It has much to tell thee, both tried and true. 
It will weave bright tales and glistening lines 
That will sparkle with the evening's dew, 
So fresh and radiant will be the tales 
It shall bring to you. 



29 



I see a jumping- jack, 

And the face of the man who is pulling the 

string. 
The jumping- jack is just a painted thing, 
But the man who sits and pulls the string 
And laughs at its antics fine, 
Will some day dance to a tune of mine. 
One he will not like or relish; 
But I tell you I will make him dance 
Even though the game savor of the hellish. 
His soul is as black as sin, 
And evil thoughts can dye; but the face 
He presents to the world at large 
Is smooth, and suave of manner is he, 
This devil in human form, who pulls the string 
To his jackanapes three. Oh how he laughs 
When they cannot see, 
This devil of devils is he! 

Nay, my lady, just a very simple line 
For with thee to rhyme. 
I would laughter to thine eyes to bring, 
For they are ever occupied with the serious 
Sort of thing. I love to see thy face so bright 
And Oh, to hear thee laugh outright; 
For in thy heart thou art a merry little sinner, 
But alas, thy laughter and light, 
Have been crushed and put far out of sight. 
But now, my lady, let me whisper it 
Very gently. Thou art mine affair, 
And before I have finished my work with thee, 
Thou shalt very merry and happy be. 
30 



When the clock strikes four, no more, 
There will be a mighty rumbling in the land. 
Then will come a quivering and a settling 
Down, down will go the earth into space most 
deep. 

Weary, weary, is my heart, 
And I am so tired in every part. 
Life holds nothing bright or gay, 
Only sorrow walks my way. 

my God, what have I done? 

That my life should be not just a little gay. 
The clouds hang heavy, and Oh, so gray. 
My soul is chilled and numbed. 

1 see no ray of sunshine stealing O'er my way. 
Oh for life to be just a little gay, 

And not this everlasting gray, 

Which palls upon my sight, and almost causes 

My soul to take its flight, 

To where I know life will be one bright, blue 

day, 
Where the sun doth ever shine 
And Joy will walk my way. 
Amid bowers of roses I shall stay, 
For there is not one tiny spark of gray 
And it is everlasting day! 

On a hillside far away, there stands a small 

gray house, 
And in it, with my head pillowed on a rock 
Lies my body, mummified, so that it shall not rot. 
31 



I, who reigned supreme. 

I was not so much after all, it would seem. 

For now I am no more than a vanished dream. 

O Octavius, Octavius, thou darling of my heart. 

Mine idol, in whom I thought the sun did rise! 

And for me there was no sunset, 

For thou didst completely fill mine eyes. 

And so we wandered, hand in hand, 

On our journey that led us beyond the skies. 

The night is falling, a gentle hush is over all 

the world, 
When suddenly from the skies comes forth a 

piercing shriek 
As if a thousand winds would vie with each, to 

gain 
Some given point. When they have passed, all 

things low 
Will lie; for what could withstand the force of 

the winds 
When on such wings they do fly. 

There is many a sad heart 
In this gay world to-night. 
Many a head droops low 
That carries a golden crown, 
Many a hand is clenched in anguish 
And many falter as they go, 
To attend the banquet, 
Or to see the gayest show 
32 



Of beauty, pomp and wit; 
The wine will sparkle 
And bubble as it flows, 
But even it cannot drown their woes. 
Ah me, the sorrows of which this world never 
knows. 

Out on the waves a tiny ripple will appear. 

It will slowly spread and spread 

Until with sudden violence there gushes forth 

A stream, mountain high, 

Which will- burst and break upon the shore 

With a deadly roar. And when it sinks to rest 

That shore will be no more ! 

I have such a wild longing in my heart 
I want to give you something, 
And what it is I do not know. 
There is around, both friend and foe, 
Or else my words would flow. 
So be thou content with this fair show, 
And go to rest with thy heart aglow. 

Be of cheer and hold thine own. 
The days are coming when thou 
Shalt not travel alone. 



Fear not. His forces will not long hold sway. 
But long enough to cause some misery on the 
way. 

33 



Thou hast cast his life aright. 
He is a traitor when it comes to a fair fight. 
And only the influences of his wife 
Have so far kept it from coming to light. 
She knows his weakness and his might, 
And could tell a story that is not all bright. 

A soul that now in torture lies 

At sunrise will wing its way into the skies, 

And thou shall weep, 

Partly from joy that the soul is free, 

And partly from sorrow that the end had to be, 

Of a life so full of care, 

Although thou didst not much in it share. 

Ah me, the curtains of night are falling fast 

I must haste me on my way, 

If I would gain the summit of the mountain 

I have to climb this day. 

I must leave all tasks in order 

Lest my weary footsteps stay, 

Upon the mountain I shall have climbed this day. 

What care you? 
What care I? 
What care we? 

Do not fear. The harm that a few would send 

to thee 
Will return, a winged dart, that shall pierce 
34 



To the very heart. Throw aside these leadening 

thoughts, 
Cast far away their mental life, 
For they are not in the least a part of thee. 
They belong to the strife; and of a soul, 
What know they? Thou the higher laws must 

obey. 
And throw away all the thoughts they with thee 

would sway. 
This is from thy knight of the way, 
He with the laurel wreath, and one of bay! 

Would that I could make thy way more clear, 

Would that I could guide thee far beyond 

Thy present place of rest. 

Would that I could place a crown upon thy head 

And give thee thy share of a palace most fair 

And which rightfully to thee dost belong. 

For thou art in my line of life 

And among my people thou shouldst dwell 

In a home which thou wouldst love right well ; 

But time will thy story tell. 

A day's journey thou shalt go 
To where? Dost thou know? 
There thou shalt rest, so plan for thy home 
And make it of the best. 

Be sure and gather thy pleasures along the way. 
Do not close thine eyes to the brightness of day. 
Take time now, in the present of years 
And have thou not so many fears, 
35 



For thy future life's cares. 
Go happy, gay and free, 
And prosperity will walk along with thee, 
For she likes not a doleful face, and a lagging 
pace. 

A fairy tale dost thou wish? 
All the fairy tales I know, thou hast heard. 
And somehow to-night I am dealing with facts, 
Hard facts; so I fear thou must wait 
Till the Mother of Fairies is at the gate ; 
And when she doth knock and doth call, 
Thou must run and answer her questions, one 
and all. 

I want to kneel and pray, 
I want, with firm, strong hand 
To draw the curtains far away, 
That now from my sight withhold 
The mighty secrets of the world. 

Nay, my lady, I have not pierced 

The inner sight, from whence cometh 

Only God's light. Thou hast seen 

Far deeper than many, who have lived 

For centuries in the rays of light. 

Thy soul has darted to the innermost shrine 

And that is why thou hast brought all these minds 

To thine. Thou dost not realize thy worth. 

Thou art possessed of a body and soul 

Too finely attuned for thy world. 

36 



Hence thy sorrow and care, of which thou 
Hast had more than thy share. 

The meadow brook flows softly on, 

Taking not much space, 

Making not much name. 

But ah, who can tell the beauty 

Of the verdure it leaves upon its banks, 

Or its future fame. 



I feel so sad, my heart is buried deep, 
Far from the sight of those who weep. 
Why they weep it is hard to tell, 
For I know they did not love me well 
When I was in my earthly shell. 
But such is life. We work and strive. 
A little pleasure, a sorrow here and there. 
One long, long sigh, and then we die. 
To all that surrounds this life on earth, 
And wing our way to our new birth. 

Rushing forth to Heaven 

Is a cry from a thousand souls. 

They in fear and torture stay 

That their part of the land will give away, 

And be rushed with the tide 

To where none can abide. 



Thou hast been in the arms of thy God. 
Thou hast been cradled, rocked and soothed. 
37 



Thou hast been shown the paths 

That lead on high. It only remains 

For thee to walk them, till thou shalt die. 

There is a garden of roses all nodding their 
Dreamy, sleepy heads. Waiting to be gathered 
For a pillow, on which thou canst rest thy head. 

I would surround my love with violets 
Of every shade and kind. 

Oh my love is like unto a rushing stream 
It goes so madly 

It never heeds the rocks and stones 
But gains new force to drive it on. 

In my wanderings o'er the sea 

Into other lands, 

I am most impressed with thee. 

Thou art so fair and sweet, 

So divinely dear, 

I fain would rest with thee. 

Rise, my soul, and conquer all thy cares, 
Let no sorrow dwell with thee. 
Put forth all thy forces of sunshine bright 
And God alone shall dwell with thee. 

Dost thou wish a rhyme or a tale in verse 
If the latter, then thou art 

38 



Of my own mind, and I shall to thee unfold 

The sweetest story ever told. 

Love in a bower of roses sat, 

And smiled on the world with an enticing turn 

Of her head. They one and all hastened 

To bend at her bower. 

She threw them a charmed rose, 

And bade them haste on their way, 

For while the rose was blooming, love would 

hold sway. 
Some thought time would stay, so wandered 
On their way. Others, sure of their rose 
Held it carelessly, and it blew away. 
While still others stopped to examine 
So many works of art 
That their rose drooped its head 
And quite faded away. But a few flew on 
To their goal, and laid the rose 
All fresh with its morning dew, 
Right on the hearts they knew were true. 

To Mrs. Schwarz : — 

A soul of power, but confined 
In space untried. 
But later will flow out 
In this world's vast throng 
And then will grasp 
The truest sense of God. 
And when you have said that, 
You have said all. 



39 



Thou, Dear Heart, must gird thine armor on, 
Thy life must not be spent from the world apart ; 
But mingle thou must, with others of thine art, 
And by so doing thou wilt gain thy higher 
Finer part. Thy last long step on the plane 
That is to be for thee, thy reign! 

Ah me ! My soul will rise indeed in might, 

To fight the coming strife of death 

That hovers near, with all my hopes so dear. 

It shall not strike! I have spoken 

And intend to fight. 

I shall win the victory, I know, 

Before the fight begins. 

So enter with the victor's heart, 

Brave, true and strong, until the end. 

Coming, coming, my Love ! 

Wait just a little longer, 

I have one more rose to put in place, 

And then I shall be free to wander. 

Wander with thee at thy will, 

Into our life of love. 

We shall travel the land and the ocean wide, 

To find some spot to live our life 

Of love, my love of life! 

So wait just a little longer, 

My love, my life! 

I love to wander by the river's bank 
To gather of the glorious woods. 
40 



The beauties tended so lovingly 

By the band of flower fairies. 

And as I pluck, to listen 

The dainty tales they do unfold. 

Each containing a spirit that is of gold, 

And which later shall be told. 

Dear fairies, I wonder where you are, of late? 
You seem so entirely to have deserted me to my 

fate. 
Not a whisper do I hear, not a song 

To greet my waiting ear. Dear fairies ! 
Do come, and bring along some cheer. 

Always thou dost bring 
Just what thy thoughts do wing 
By their height or depth, 
So thy song must sing. 

Write thee of the world so wide, 
Sing thee of the glorious sun tide, 
And thy name shall forever abide. 

In the twilight, just before the night comes 
deepening on, * 

Watch thee well what thou dost see. 

Flitting shadows from the great Unknown, then 
come forth 

To their own, bringing tales of beauty, wonder, 



4* 



And giving pictures of exquisite tone, which 

later 
Are put forth to the world, as the receiver's 

own. 

I have the tower room, and here I lie, 
My body racked with pain, but my soul 
Flying out to greet the glorious rising sun, 
In all its immeasurableness — and ah me ! 
Who having watched the exquisite tones 
Of the ever changing beauty, has desired 
A small painting of the magnificence 
Which cannot be confined. 

Trust thou on. Hold thy head high, 
And never, never, give place 
To the poisoned shafts that fly. 

Like a silver stream 
Flows my thought to thee. 

My love why dost thou stay? 
Why not walk my way? My soul 
Is with thee as in days of old, 
My heart beats in tune with thine. 
Thine eyes would be to me as a draught 
Of wine. The clasp of thine arms 
Ah me, what evil thoughts have wrought. 
Thy soul is torn and distraught. 
Thou dost not know if I be aught but evil, 
42 



Soft and sly. Thou dost not know 

That my soul with God doth fly. 

And from his fountains my thoughts do flow. 

Oh, my love, why dost thou not know? 

Come, bend thine ear, and I will whisper 

Words of cheer; words that thou 

Wouldst gladly hear. 

Draw my soul to thine and thou shalt hear 

Strange glad tidings from thy God Divine. 

Oh, my love, come to me, for thou art mine. 

Thou art a fair, brave soul, 
Thou art a dear, brave soul, 
And thy bravery shall be rewarded 
By a beautiful rounding of the whole. 

One night I dreamed such strange wild schemes 
They drew the whole world in. 
A vast change I would inaugurate, if I 
Could gain my strength, and begin the fight 
Against sin, of evil living, wide extortion. 
The grinding down of women in the different 

spheres 
Of labor. I shall yet realize my dream, 
And see all these crimes slowly losing ground, 
And a new high grade of life in general. 

My theme is one of love for all mankind, 
My scheme involves the whole world o'er 
And just a quiet loving thought I shall pour 
Into space, until all be filled with God's love 
43 



And grace; and room, there shall be no more 
For sin to deface! 



A message of cheer for thy heart so dear, 
Thou wilt soon come to light, 
Thy name shall stand out bright, 
And love from every soul will flow to thee, 
Engulfing thy life to the exclusion of all sorrow 
And strife. 



I dance, and in a whirl of delight 

My head is swayed. My heart doth beat 

So that I am afraid. 

For he, my lover of might, 

Is coming to me this night. 

In his arms I shall lie. 

In his eyes, O what worlds I shall see ! 

This lover of mine, from the old world is he. 

In his love I shall rest contented all my days. 

Do you wonder that I dance and my head sways, 

And that my heart beats all ways ? 

Criss-cross, criss-cross ! 
O how our interests fine, 
Do everlastingly entwine ! 

There will be a widening of thy sight 

And a broadening of thy soul ; 
And thou shalt take the final step 

That will lead thee to thy goal. 
44 



I stand at the gate of a garden of old. 
Dare I enter its sleepy, dreamy fold. 
Quaint, delicate perfumes greet my wearied 

sense. 
There would be rest and peace. 
There the noise of battle would cease. 
Love and care would me surround. 
Still I stand, mine eyes lingering 
On the busy world, which at last doth draw 

me 
From the garden of peace and content. 

Time, who can measure time? 

The work of centuries is lost in a day. 

And what is a day or a night 

But a century to some, 

Who live their lives 

With the beat of a drum? 

Open thine eyes and cease to measure 

All things ! 'Tis a waste of what thou 

Dost call time. O why must thou be so blind? 

Many are the flights thy soul shall take 

Into realms of light, so dazzling in their purity, 

So gorgeous in their sheen, so exquisite in their 

theme, 
That scarce to thy earthly home will return thy 

soul 

From its most ethereal dream. 



45 



Daffodils, daffodils, in all thy yellow glory, 
Nodding thy heads each with a dear fairy story, 
Which thou dost give to the air, 
And of such sweetness that few can compare. 
Thou dear daffodils, from where? 

A dove of purest white will shortly whirl 
Into thy sight. Offer it shelter and care, 
And in the morning's light so bright 
Thou shalt find thy God hath dwelt with thee 

O'er night! 

On the wings of the wind, that shall give 
To the trees, their coat of gold and brown, 
With some dashes of scarlet thrown in, and 

around 
Will come many thoughts new and high 
That will hold a mad revel, until thou 
Dost put them forth in a song, 
So rhythmatic and clear, that the world 
To it shall move along. 

There is a freedom of thought that carries to 

thee 
And will shortly take thee far o'er the sea, 
To rest in a clime so divine, that almost 
Thou shalt think the angels thou dost see. 
The air so soft and mellow, 
The flowers so gloriously gay; 
That thy soul shall dance and flutter 
And like a bird thou shalt sing forth thy lays. 

4 6' 



A ray of sunshine, warm and bright — 

Is stealing near thy sight. 

Watch thee well, for in its light 

Thou canst grasp many high ethereal things 

That are carried on the sunbeam's wings. 

There was a moonbeam, soft and light, 
That stole away from the Garden of Night. 
In the morning's light, so fair and bright, 
A maiden gathered a rose, that had bloomed 
O'er night. In the heart of the rose a dewdrop 

lay 
Which was the moonbeam that had stolen away. 
It entered the soul of the maiden so fair, 
As she kissed the rose just fresh from God's 

pure air. 
And there the moonbeam nestled, so warm and 

bright, 
To illumine the soul of the maiden, this moon- 
beam 
That had stolen from the Garden of Night. 

Aye, prosperity shall walk with thee, 
And into thy life shall enter three new forces 
Fine and grand, from the highest of the land, 
That shall form with thee a band, 
To spread new glories which for eternity shall 
stand. 



47 



Great minds deal in simple facts 
Few words, and greater deeds, 
Is what the world at present lacks. 

The mists are slowly lifting, 

The sun will soon shine clear, 

And thou shalt think thy life 

Is one of goodly cheer. 

Thy days of drear unchanging scenes 

Are past and gone — 

And with October's glowing tones 

Thy new era will have begun. 

Peace is there to be. 
Love thou shalt see 
Showered by all 
Who read of thee! 

Fine and high thy soul shall be, 

Loved by all the world, 

What more could I ask for thee? 

Courage, thou dear soul, courage ! 

Dearest hope that I now hold high, 

When the world is just beginning to fly. 

May my hopes with the highest vie, 

And not encounter a storm, 

Naught but a cloudless sky, so that my hopes 

Shall be forever held on high. 

4 8 



I am always bright, thanks to my forces 

Of the starry night. They carry me in dreams 

To sights, that create for me days of delight. 

The glimmering lights that spring to life 
As the day departs on its nightward way, 
Are ever to me a joy, with which my soul to 

sway. 
It leaps with the lights, 
Against the dead black curtain of night, 
And I am in a dream of delight. 

Consider well each step 

Then make no backward turns. 



My days are dreams of love, 
My nights I spend Above, 
Flitting from scene to scene. 
Ah me, the beauties of which 
.Mine eyes can scarce glean. 
So my life flows on 
To its exquisite theme. 

Thy scheme of life will round out into perfect 

control 
Of all the forces that for thy good have been 

told. 



49 



Night doth bring to us, and we to them 

Many strange, fantastic sights. 

Many warnings if heeded aright 

Are crooned to us in the night. 

Many high, wide thoughts fly forth 

To dwell in minds that love them well, 

There to be nurtured, and worked 

Into rhythmatic song or scientific form, 

Or perchance a play, 

With which for others to beguile a day, 

A book of fine intent, all as to which way 

The mind is bent. Such as these 

Come from the thoughts sent forth at night 

To give to the world a flood of light. 

Pray, pray unceasing, that the world 
Will be spared the terrible calamities 
That hover in the air. 
A strong force of good high thoughts 
Build a wall to the protection of all. 

Peace, doth to us flow 

And on the wings of the wind it doth go. 

And we are left low with our sorrow and care, 

All because the winds doth blow, 

And bring us vibrations from souls 

They their God doth not know. 

My heart is leaping with the thought 
That to me will come my love; 
With the breaking of the spring-tide, 
5o 



I shall with him abide. 

Then rest and peace my soul shall know, 

And my thoughts to God o'erflow, 

With a power and a rhythm that the 

World shall know MY God, MY Heaven, 

And from whence cometh this harmonious flow. 

Adrift on the ocean of life, 

Swayed with the winds that blow from every 

source 
Is a soul that now seeks thee for guidance, 
As to the path he shall tread. 
Give of thy best, and turn the soul, 
So that with God it finally shall rest. 

Birds all of a quiver; darting here and there, 

Building nests for winter, 

Or planning to find a softer air, 

In which to sing and wing their life away. 

Come my Love, and pray with me, 

That the panic I see will averted be, 

And the world move on to an added strain 

Of prosperity. Confine for a time 

The efforts of one, not calculated 

To make the world hum with joyous song. 

Suppress the desire to crush the Trusts, 

For in so doing the world at large 

Will want crusts. So my love, come ; 

Add thy prayers, and who knows the results. 

51 



The sun is shining brightly, 

And life to me holds all things dear. 

Then comes the faintest cloud 

Across my horizon so clear, 

A chill enwraps my soul, 

A fear comes with sickening force 

And Lo, I am so drear. 

I who just a short time since 

Was a thing of so much cheer. 

Roundelay, roundelay, sing a song fondly, 

With thy heart and soul. 

Then thy skies shall be blue, 

Thy course true, 

And thou shalt have nothing to rue. 

Merrily, merrily rings the song, 
Gaily, gaily they dance along, 
These lassies and lads to whom as yet 
Life is only a song, 

And one day and night long. 

Night, night, night! When all the world 

Is bathed in a dimming light. 

Each star comes forth to shed its rays so bright. 

All is peace and quiet in the workaday life, 

And the night-workers are mostly hidden from 

sight. 
Ah me, what a calm comes over my soul. 
My thoughts can fly, and with the stars they do 

vie, 

52 



So that when day doth appear, they still fly, 
And with the sun doth rise, and rise, 
Until they fill my entire skies, with lights 
Of blue and gold, and rose covered sonnets un- 
told, 
Till again it is night, and I fly to the starlight, 
And the calmer things of life. 

Night, night, night! 

The soft silvery light that I see at night 

Transports my soul to a dream of delight. 

I fly, and "in a dance do sway, 

On the silvery clouds of night. 

I soar and float in an ethereal, exquisite air, 

That leads to where? I dare not picture 

The bliss. It is far too elusive 

For the world to behold. Even could I write 

Of God's glory, that has never been told. 

I am so tired, I would be pillowed on thy breast. 
O God, come and take me to my everlasting rest. 

All this strife, it wears my soul. 

All these heavy, sordid thoughts 

Break thy harmony divine, and cast me down, 

Far down, so that I do but repine. 

Such a merry, whistling lad, 
Along a lane goeth he, 
With his stick on his shoulder, 
53 



His pack on his back, 
And not a thought of trouble has he. 
But just ahead in the lane a foe I see. 
Can I gain my lad in time, 
And whisper a word to beware? 
For the snare looks fair 
And has been set with care, 
By one of far greater wisdom than he, 
My merry whistling lad of the lea. 
I pray if I do not reach him in time 
That his eyes may see and know the Depth 
His fall would be. O my merry whistling lad, 
Thou MUST see, by the strength of my love 
for thee. 

God stands ever ready to lead us 
To the highest point, from whence we could see 
Most amazing sights. But alas, our souls 
Always start and draw back. 
Low do we lie, content with our narrow vision, 
Fear bids us not to fly, and so, alas, we die. 
Scarcely having known our God, 
Or to what ecstatic heights he would have 
helped us fly. 

Between us and the next sphere 

Lies a very narrow path. 

Some dream along its way. Others rush 

With fevered haste, and others walk with stately 

grace, 
Wondering why some assume so much haste. 
54 



Then come the plodders, with heads bent low, 
And heavy burdens on their backs, 
Watching eagerly the path, for fear of a mis- 
step, 
They know not where they would go. 
Still others crawling the narrow path, 
Fear to rise, even to a stooping posture, 
And a few fly over the heads of all, 
And arrive at the gates before the morning call. 

Many are the tides that shall flow 

Into thy life; but none so well for thy soul 

As one now far away, whose love doth sway 

To thy soul, with an ever increasing strength 

Of purity and goodness. 

The time is short to the day, when thy life 

He shall sway, and in his arms thou shalt stay. 

My love flows on as though in a shaded glen, 

Contentment I know for a time. 

And then, ah then the glen doth end, 

And out into the broad fields I shall go. 

The glare of the sun, the force of the winds, 

And the moon of mellow light, shall play 

Upon my soul, not always to its delight ; 

But such is my fate, and who am I 

That to God should decry. Nay, rather play I 

Sweet notes on the strings of my fate. 

When I think of all the blessings that are show- 
ered 

55 



From Above, my heart gives one great throb, 
And a silent prayer of thankfulness doth leave 

my lips, 
That I am even permitted to dwell within their 

midst. 

Thy paths shall soon reach to a far distant 

clime, 
Where thou shalt dwell in peace for a time. 
Then back to thy labors thou must take thy 

way. 

A glorious rose stands nodding its head, 

To thee it will bear a tale from one 

Whom the world counts dead. His soul is so 

high, 
That not many can with it vie. 
He will give thee ere long, a bright sunny song, 
Which in words thou shalt rhyme, 
And send forth to the world as from the olden 

time. 



Alack and alas, our plans are things of the past. 
New ways we must go; new waters we must 

span, 
All because our plans have gone to other lands, 
Where with them we cannot fly, 
To the land of the things gone by. 



56 



Joy, Joy, Joy is in the air. It is everywhere. 

I hear it whispered, O so softly. 

I hear it blazoned from out the sky, 

Joy, Joy, Joy J 

Mellow, mellow grows the time, 

Soon the fields will revel with the corn 

And grapes for wine. 

And all the earth be bathed in a hazy mist. 

Then for thee is thy most glorious time, 

Thy October of corn and wine. 

There stands at thy gate of late, 

A dainty messenger, who brings to thee wild 

roses 
Gathered in the early morn. 
Thou hast not answered to her call, 
And alas the roses have faded, one and all. 
Still she comes, as fair and sweet 
Her roses with which thee to greet. 
Thou must watch at dawn, 
And hold thy dainty messenger with words of 

love, 
And praise for the roses she has brought. 
And the fairies they contain, 
Each with a tale of love, for thine art and name. 

Thou canst fashion thy thoughts on whatever 

plan 
Thou dost desire, but ultimately only to God 

57 



Wilt thou aspire. In Him all thy hopes will re- 
alize, 
And He alone can guide thee to the everlasting 

skies. 
There thou shalt dwell for time unending, 
There thy heart will murmur no more, 
But rest contented ; and. thy soul flow out. 
To God ever more. 

that I could fly to where thou dost lie 
Amid a wood of deepest green 

In peace, and with thy soul attuned to God. 
So that from him thy thoughts do flow, 
And with each other vie, to gain a ground 
Upon which for thee to build a name 
That shall stand out bold and strong, 
For all good, and never for a wrong. 

There stands before my sight a figure clothed 
in white. 

1 am awake to this world's charms so it can- 

not be 
A dream figure that I see, standing there so 

bold and free. 
Free, aye free! from the chains that bound 

to vice and sin, 
So that the soul to God could enter in. 
He bears a message that I shall give, nay, many 

messages, 
But the first shall live with the world as long as 

time extends. 

58 



My soul is freed from its body, 

Weighted down with sin, and straight it comes 

To thee, with a message of purity from within. 

Thy Heaven is THE Heaven, thy light is God's 
light, 

And thy soul doth dwell forever in his sight. 

Thy visions are pure and always aright. 

Thy heart is gold, and thou shouldst not live 

In the strife of a workaday life. 

But such is thy fate, so work and bring forth 
thy songs 

All the day long. They carry a message from 
God 

To the heart, and remember that God hath or- 
dained thy part. 

From the glorious East, where the Sun doth rise 

Will come strange tales from men. 

Prophets they will claim to be, of far greater 

force 
Than thy God, whom thou dost see. 
They will rest no measure to bring thy soul to 

them; 
But thou hast thy God, and to him thou shalt 

cling, 
For thy soul cannot be tempted by the dazzling 

sights 
They will bring to thee, the Mystic Three. 

I have quaffed deep of my cup, with its bitter 
dregs, 

59 



But my skies are blue, my heart ever true, 
And I am still looking for some good to do. 

Precious love, I have thy name 
Engraven on my heart. 
It lives my life each day, 
And from it I shall never part. 

Dost thou catch the thoughts my soul sends to 

thee? 
They go on the wings of a song that thy heart 
May carry along, to aid thee in thy work of 

mercy 

All the day and night long. 

A monster frog sat one day, on the edge of a 

pond, 
He croaked and croaked his songs, 
But no one heeded his lay, till some boys came in 

sight, 
And then, oh my, he jumped in the pond, and 

hid. 
But the boys, they watched for their prey, 
Till the close of day, for he was a frog of size 
And they longed to possess him as a prize, 
And not for his lays. If they could have known 
That he was a king in disguise, a ruler of lands, 
Oh my, but their eyes would have popped 
In surprise! A bad, wicked witch had laid her 

magic wand 

60 



On him one day at dawn, and he had waked a 

frog, 
And to a life by the pond, in a land far away. 
His agony of mind I can't describe, for it still 

held sway. 
He croaked, and shrieked, and jumped around, 
But alas no plan could he think, would bring 

him back 
To this throne and crown. And his frog-like 

fear 
Of the human soul, made him think, and think, 
As he crouched in his watery bed, he heard 

a voice quite clear. 
" I think we'll catch him if we stay right here." 
So he quietly moved along, not to ripple the 

waters 
By even a breath. At last by much patience 

he gained a spot 
Where he knew he'd be safe till dark. 
He prayed to the witch to restore him his life 

as a man. 
He'd grant any wish she might demand; but 

" No " she cried, 
" You killed my son, and now I am having my 

fun. 
You'll be caught and killed some day 
For your hind legs are fat and firm. Ho, ho! 
I am having my fun! They are searching all 

through 
Your kingdom for the missing one. 
But they'll never find you, and your next of kin 

will reign; 

61 



And he is one that my people love, for he deals 
In the blackest of arts, that of reading the 

hearts. 
His reign will bring wealth and fame to the peo- 
ple I love, 
So you stay by the pond till your life is run. 
But there's one thing I will tell you : if you 

pluck a rose 
Just fresh with dew, and lay it under yonder 

yew, 
A miracle will happen, what, I shall not tell 

to you; 
But I must away to watch my brew, 
For I have some fine plans awaiting thy suc- 
cessor's view. 
So bye-bye, froggy dear, I'll come again to 

you."' 
The frog he threw himself about, and swore he'd 

find a rose 
To lay under yonder yew. Nothing but trees 

his eyes did greet 
And he dared not go far from the pond. Late 

that night 
He heard a sound that made him jump and turn 

around 
And hide himself back of a great big mound of 

rock and moss. 
But he watched with eager eyes, for the woods 

were peopled 
With little folks, all airy and fairy like dolls. 
One stood apart, and only looked on at the dance 

and play. 

62 



Surely she moved close to the pond, and seemed 

to be looking 
For something on the ground. Her face was 

clouded 
As she raised her head, and listened for a sound 

from above. 
Then all at once she spied the frog, who had 

moved 
Out into sight, in his wonder, and had lost some 

of his fright. 
She moved very slowly and gave an order to 

her band, 
And instantly they saluted and vanished from 

the land. 
Then spoke the fairy queen: "I to rescue thee 

have come. 
At the first streak of dawn, I will guide thee to 

a rose 
All fresh with dew; one that thou canst gather 
To lay under yonder yew. Thou must watch 

very carefully 
And keep close to me, else the witch might ga- 
ther thee 
In her net, and then, where wouldst thou be? 
She dare not kill thee as yet, and I pray I shall 

be able 
To set thee free." Very soon the first streak of 

light 
Broke through the night, and the fairy queen 

started off 
With the frog close by. Her haste was great, 



63 



For she must be away, and out of sight, before 

the light 
Grew bright. Soon they came to a garden all 

filled 
With roses and flowers; and the fairy queen 

bade the frog 
Pluck one, and quickly get out of sight. 
It was a hard, hard task, for the rose was high, 
The stem was tough, and thorns were plentiful 

enough. 
But after many vain efforts, the frog succeeded 
In plucking the rose, and the fairy queen danced 

with delight. 
" Now for the yew tree, my froggy, and then 

you will know 
Who I am, aright." It was a hard, toilsome 

journey 
To gain the yew tree without breaking the rose. 
And the thorns, oh, how they pricked ! 
But the fairy queen ever urged him on, for the 

time 
When the charm would be gone, was almost 

along. 
At last he reached the tree, and laid the rose 

down 
With a few drops of dew, still glistening on its 

crown. 
Instantly the fairy assumed a larger size, 
And there stood a maiden fair and full of grace, 
Who laid her hand on the frog's tired head, 

and lo ! 
He was again a man, who could walk and talk. 

6 4 



" Oh my dear Sire," the maiden said, " long 

years have I waited 
For thee, to come and release my spell. 
And thou hast accomplished it right well. I 

was told 
By a whispering spirit to look on the ground, 
And I should find a frog that would break the 

spell 
That a bad old witch had drawn o'er me. Now 

I am grateful 
For thou wouldst never have come to my part 

of the world 
Had all things gone well." The king had de- 
clared 
His love for the maiden fair, and a desire to 

take her home ; 
But then he bethought how his cousin reigned 

in his stead; 
And how a bitter fight was the only thing 
That would bring his crown to his head. Why 

not dwell 
With the maid in this country so fine, 
Where there were no kings to fight for each 

others' crowns 
And cares? The maiden fair belonged to the 

Duchess of Clare 
But she had so many children, and the time had 

been so long, 
She had quite given up in despair ; and no longer 

expected 
To see her child who had disappeared so mys- 
teriously. 

65 



One day walking in the woods with her nurse, 
Who had turned to gather a flower, the child 

had vanished 
As though in air. The nurse called and searched 
Far o'er the woods, not daring to return with a 

tale so wild. 
At last it grew dusk, and in fear she ran away, 
And hid for many a day. They found her al- 
most starved 
And took her home to die. She told her tale, 
But they shook their heads, and wondered. 
They searched the country o'er but no trace of 

the child 
Did they find, for the witch had turned her to 

the fairy queen 
In a land far away. At night she with her band 
Roamed the woods, and longed to go to her 

mother — 
But alas, the Duchess could not see her, for her 

eyes 
Were only on the worldly side of life, and 

" fairies," 
She would have laughed! And put the thought 

away 
With a toss of her head, and " Oh my, what 

has come over me to-day ? " 
And thus would have ended her flight to the 

fairy realms 
Of light. But now that the fairy queen was a 

maid all grown, 
Her right might be questioned, and how should 

she explain 

66 



The flight of years? No, they both decided to 

start anew, 
Just plain everyday people like me and you. 
So hand in hand their journey began; and in 

another tale, 
And at another time, I shall to their life incline. 



Lilies are so pure and sweet! 
They bring such visions of a land 

Of song, of purity, and peace ! 

O dear one, rest your head 

Upon my breast, 
Pouring all your troubles 

Into space ! 



Swinging, swinging, 

All the day away, 

O how happy I was then ! 



Will you come with me, my love? 

I will take you to a hidden spot I know, 

O so fair, so restful, 

And so full of promises of love! 



Time, time! O how time flies, 
When we are not waiting. 

6 7 



Go forth, my soul, to sing sweet songs 

For all the souls who are lifting their eyes to 

God. 
Go forth with haste, to greet them on their way, 

To everlasting joy. 

Later? Why always later? Why not now? 

I watched, and watched in vain 

For some sign to show 

That men would heed the voice of God. 

The still, small voice 

So sweetly full of promise 

Of a life of eternal bliss. 

If they would only sow 

The smallest seed of good and love 

Along the path they trod. 

Arise, my star of bliss 
And shine so brightly, 
That you will hide 

All other stars! 

Mrs. Barlow, 

Oh, you darling soul, 

You are just the sweetest thing. 

Such an inspiration 

In your very dreams ! 



68 



My love is wide, and broad, 

And O, so deep ! 
And wells up into everlasting springs. 

Patter, patter, comes the rain, 

Haste thou thy steps ! 

Or the storm will catch thee, 

In thy Sunday best! 

Sunshine, sunshine everywhere! 
That is, when God smiles, 

On all the earth! 

Words are nothing. 

It is the thought that inspires. 

Thou hast done thy work so well 
That the soul has reached its God 
O rejoice, my heart's desire, 
Thou hast gained the better part. 
Thy place is now so firm, 
In the arms of God, and love. 

my love, to be wandering hand in hand 
By the ocean of eternal love. 

1 wonder what will come, in the morn ! 
I have a feeling I cannot describe 

Of a wondrous light of life 

And love, to be mine before long. 

69 



To J. J. B. 

Wisdom? Now you are talking. 
What is wisdom? Can you define it? 



Wisdom, / should say, is a clear understanding 
of God. 



Faith in God, faith in man, 
Brings us to a realization of love. 

Bring, O bring my love to me ! 
Why does he linger so? 

It is time, and past! 

I now can write and sing 

Of all the wonderful things that I have seen. 

They far excel any earthly dream 

Or song that I have sung. I thought I knew 

God's wideness, and his tender love, 

But O, the smallest part is wider 

Than the earth's broad fields. 

It far beyond my wildest hopes has taken me, 

An humble follower of my King. 

My love is like a softly drooping rose. 

So sweet and gentle, 

Yet unfolding such a beauty of soul. 



70 



To my Great-Grandmother: — 
O my darling Sylvia! 
How I love thy soul divine. 
What thou must have suffered 
In this earthly world of mine! 

You must rest your weary eyes, my love 

In the heart of life. 
I shall send a blessing from above 

To descend upon those eyes. 

Happiness is gained only by being absolutely 
unselfish. 



Knowledge is what we think we gain. 
Will is self-control. 

Love, love, love ! 

All is love to the lover. 

Every flower, every stream 

Sings out love. 

Sweet, sweet be thy dreams ! 
Always of a land of light and song 
And of love, all the night long. 



71 



Come, my love divine, 
And we will wander 

All the time ! 



Tick-tock, tick-tock, 
Goes the clock, 
Timing each life away. 

Energy is stored fire of the gods. 

Power is energy confined. 

Well, well, my little dears, 

How goes the day? 

All in a world of play? 

Or is there a tear 

To shed on the way? 

Play, darlings, play! 

For life soon grows sad. 

Unto the coming of the day 
I shall stand and guard thy soul 
So that it may wing its way 
In perfect trust, 

In truth, and purity. 

I climb to such heights that the world 
Fades entirely from my sight. 

72 



Singing, singing, all the day, 

Dear little children at play, 

May no care ever force the singing 

Far away ! 

O my love lies far beyond the bright blue sea. 
Come, O come to me, spirit of her gentle grace. 
O my love was such a dainty dear, always loving, 
Always striving to be kind to every soul. 

A rain of love is falling, 

so softly; over land and sea, 
Covering all with an exquisite mist 

Of purity ! 

Some day soon, my soul will rise 
To such dizzy heights 
That I scarce can see 
The highest peak of earth. 

1 shall see some beauties of the skies 
To tell to all the world 

Of God's great and glorious land, 

Far beyond our eyes. 

I love the ocean's rolling waves, 

It brings such freedom from all cares, 

It seems as if the soul but lived. 

Ah, my child, I love you so, 
Your soul is so divine 
73 



It inspires to dreams of bliss 
In this fair world of mine. 
You cannot know what joy it is 
To read the beauty of thy soul. 

Ah, my country is so fine 
It inspires one to song, 

Songs of every kind. 
The grandeur of its trees, 
And the vastness of its plains, 
The freedom of its people 

To all the world. 



Rugs ! O, how many lives are woven in rugs ! 

Come in the evening, when the sun has set 

And duties are put aside. 

We then can rest in peace, 

And talk of all the things of life. 

Song, song of my life, 
. Come, let us be gay, 
And let us away! 
Away to the woods, 
To dream in the shade of day! 

Hope ! Ah who can express 
The visions it opens to one's eyes ! 



74 



Dreams, dreams are such darling things, 

Taking one to the heights ! 

I will away to my old home 

Across the sea. 

To Sunny Ireland for me ! 

No grass so green, 

No trees so heavy 

In their growth of leaves ! 

Nothing, nothing, 
What is nothing? 
Do you know, 

I don't! 

The first faint call of the quail 

As it comes from woods and dale, 

Brings a message that all is cheer. 

And the skies are clear. But alas, 

This time the message is not to be taken 

As the first forerunner of Spring 

For there is plenty of winter yet to come ; 

And a snow that the like of has not yet been run. 

So watch thee well, for thou art under a spell 

And dost not know whether to believe or not, 

The stories I tell. 

Calls the robin in the tree, 
Come, I pray, and dwell with me. 
Come, oh come, come, oh come, 

Come, oh come, come, oh come. 

75 



We will happy be, just you and me, 
In the tree. In the tree. 
Will you come, will you come, 

Will you come, will you come? 

I am coming, robin dear, 

In the morn I'll come to thee. 

Come to thee, come to thee, 

Come to thee, come to thee ! 

I have been o'er the hills, to the Castle 

Of Rhymes and Rills. I have given thee a 

glimpse 
Of the lesser stars. They are but shadows, 
No depth or breadth ; and in them thy soul 
Could not attempt to dwell for an hour, 
Much less live in their midst. 
Thou art too fine; thy soul is all divine. 
Oh my darling be thou not discouraged. 
Throw dull care away, and go into God's pure 

air, 
With a heart full of merry song, 
And not a tear must thou take along, 
For thou wilt stand, some day, on a pedestal 
High and broad ; and with very loving hands, 
Wilt lift others tQ thy stand ! 

Never mind, my love, thou must have thy " ups " 

and " downs," 
And occasionally the " downs " are very hard, 
But they enable you to appreciate the " ups." 

7 6 



So have for thy motto, " High ho, I shall be 
happy 

Whichever way I go." 

Paint thy scenes, model thy clay, write thy tales, 
But I, by my poems and songs will stay. 

Swing, swing, swing, like a pendulum in a clock, 
Thou art being flung from rock to rock 
Until thou dost hardly know if thou 
Hast a foot to stand on, or not. 
Swing, swing, swing, finally thy plans will ring 
With a note of truth and decision fair 
And thou, thou wilt be away up in the air. 
Swing, swing, swing, but beware thou do not go 

too high, 
For there is danger that thou wilt fall 
From thy perch in the sky. Swing, swing, 

swing. 
Very gently swing, so that the motion 
May lull thee off to rest. And when thou dost 

awake 
On the morrow, when the sun is high, 
Thou wilt cry, I am ready to do or die. 

Staunch and true, sails the good ship " Prue," 
She bears from friends afar, many messages for 

you. 
Among them some tales almost too good to be 

true. 
One of success with thy handiwork, 
77 



One full of love for you, so thou shouldst watch 
well 

For the good ship " Prue." 

Thou hast been loaned a small talent 

So care for it well, and later 

Thou wilt be called on, its story to tell. 

This is a golden age, when many fine inventions 
Will invade the country all about. 
People will fly and sail with far greater ease 
Than they now walk out. Vast countries 
Will be developed into charming homes. 
Immense fortunes will be made from products of 

the earth 
And also from mergers of widest girth. 
So this is an age to be alert, 
And gather thy share of the golden earth. 
There will also be disaster; many countries 
Will be destroyed, but immediately 
Will spring up others into the void. 
New rulers will arise, and some of the mad, mad 

rush 
Will subside. A more stately walk will our eyes 

behold 
On every side; so altogether it will be 
An interesting tide. 

Genius dwelt in a body, walled up hard as stone. 
It would take many blastings of power divine 

78 



To liberate that genius, so it could come into its 

own. 
But thou hast entered a small, small wedge, 
And in time the fires will burn ; so be not weary, 
But ever with a brave, bold stroke, 
Drive thy wedge in deeper and deeper, 
Until the walls of the rock shall part, 
And Genius shall do homage to her especial 

art. 

Alack and alas for the days that are gone, 
The gay festive scenes that are past. 
When the lords and the ladies bedecked them- 
selves 
In their satin gowns. The waistcoats and laces 
Of the lords, were selected with care, 
And my lady's hair was built upon a cage 
That few nowadays could wear. 
But they walked with stately head 
And what cared they for comfort ; were they not 
The leaders of the land, and from the eyes of all 
They did respect command; but each decade of 

time 
Has its fashions galore, and right now 
We are going back ages or more; and soon 
We shall all be decked in the old Romanesque 
Which will save us many struggles and trials 

of life. 
Just a plain linen sheet with some sandals, and 

a girdle 
Of jewels, if we care. 

79 



Trees, thou mighty, magnificent works of art, 
Spreading thy branches for beauty and shade. 
Rearing thy heads, some so high, 
That they almost touch the clouds in the sky. 
Others content to grow head-high, 
All vying in their wealth of fruit and shade. 
Just another of God's blessings. 
That carry healing in almost every leaf, twig and 
root. 

Vines are such delightful things, 

Covering all the rougher spots, 

Some with colors gay, and some with flowers 

That quickly fade away. 

Others with berries of worth, and a few 

That we dare not touch; but on the whole, 

A vine is a thing to be greatly sought 

For all the beauty of shade 

With which it can be wrought. 

In a mystic land far away, there dwells 

A company of men, whose intent it is to sway 

And tip the scales the faintest depth, 

So that to thee shall be measured out wealth 

untold. 
And very goodly to see; and this will be done 

By the Mystic Three. 

This bright, fair morning is a forerunner 
Of many troubled days. So away with thyself 
And let grim care rest home alone, 
80 



For he is ever a burden, and of him 

Thou must not share! 



There is a river of sapphire blue, and it flows 
Very steadily on its course, the country through. 
Many quiet villages and towns, many wild wastes 
Of ground it sees, on its way to the bay, 
Where it rushes out to its broader way, 
To finally merge in the ocean's wave; and thus 
The river is lost to view, 

With its beautiful sapphire blue. 

The shining stars are not more bright 
Than will be thy life, my soul of delight. 
My star of heavenly light, 

My beauteous love of the night. 

Unto the morn I shall watch over thee 

So no cruel hand will strive to guide thee 

To a path where thou shouldst not be. 

Thy path should lead thee to a garden of love 

And delight; all filled with flowers 

And the day's most glorious golden light. 

Thou will find thy work laid out for thee. 

In the coming weeks there will much transpire. 

Of life, death, love, and fire!. 



Ah, my precious soul, would that I could walk 
Side by side with thee. Would that I could 

teach thee 
All that at present thou dost not know. 
Thou dost grasp the truths so quickly. 
Every problem thou dost solve with an unerring 

judgment 
For the finest, highest good of all. 

Joy thou canst bring to many, before long 

So haste thee, my soul, and put forth thy songs. 

I may not be a great poet, and delve deep down 

In the sea, or scale the mountain heights ; 

But my heart is ever warm, pure and free. 

I do not deal with Passion on its lower plane, 

I only tell of life in its sweetest strain. 

I love the country, the flowers, the birds, 

The ocean broad. I would rather sail 

Upon its waves so blue, than dive to its depths 

To bring forth a misty view. 

My tales may not arouse the passions of lust, 

But my heart never trailed in the dust. 

It was held high in God's clear air. 

My feet ever walked in clean, straight paths, 

And a shilling I owed no man. 

I was loyal to many in other lands, 

Some merit I surely deserve for this. 

I thank you darling for all your art, 
And for giving me a part ; thou hast by far 
The sweetest heart, and if thou wilt take it, 
82 



I shall give thee a song, just for thyself 

To sing along! 

My mortal self is bound by many a care 
But that does not prevent my soul 
From flying high, high in the air. 

Ah, my heart has often sighed for thee, 
That thou shouldst be from cares afree, 
Could sail the ocean wild, and drink in 
The bracing air. Oh that I could take thee 
From this narrow groove, and give thy soul 
A chance to fly into the realms thou canst not vie. 
But time and patience will bring thee 
To all things, and all things to thee. 
So live thou thy best, in thy present place 
Of rest, and soon the call will come 
That will place thee on the plane, 
Where others of thine art do rest. 

I fain would sing of love, Heaven and my King, 
But the words! They stay from me away, 

So alas, I cannot sing to-day. 

The day has been a period of resting for thee. 
Only the highest force has shed its light, 
To anoint thy soul and make it whole. 
Thou hast received a blessing which shall stay 
And forever light thy way. 



83 



From now on, thy divining powers will hold 

sway, 
And thou shalt be enabled to heal the sick 
With a touch of thy hand ; so count not thy time 
111 spent, in which thou hast been pent 
From the world and its rush. On the morrow 
Will begin thy new life. Thou must put forth 
Thy songs, as they come to thee. 
Sweetest notes divine they shall be. 

Come in the morning's light, when the earth 
Is full of God's best promises so bright. 
When all the regal splendor of the night 
Has given place to the hum of busy life. 
Then we will create a fine new scheme, 
Such as never before has been heard or seen. 
One that will appeal to the hearts of men 
And draw from them their highest thoughts and 

aims. 
They will cease some of the rush for gold, 
Or pleasure, and will devote their time 
To the getting of a far greater treasure; 
So my love, haste thee, for the morning light 
Is here, and we must not delay 
But send our scheme speeding on its way. 

I will anoint thee with oil, 
Of incense fine and rare. 
Thou shalt find it in thy hand 
And then thou shalt know 

That thy Lord is there! 

8 4 



Bright, new thoughts shall come to thee, 
That will carry love beyond degree. 

Come love, come, for the springtime is here, 
With its wealth and profusion of flowers, 
And never a fear; for thy heart is light, 
And Oh, so bright, and all things reflect thy 

cheer. 
Come love, let us off to the woods, for there 
It will be drear, and perchance 
Thou canst give them some of thy cheer. 

Thy Lord hath waited for thee 

With much patience, and all humility 

As befitteth a soul so high and fine, 

And possessed of a love so divine. 

He is guiding and guarding thy paths to Him, 

For the evil forces are strong 

From without and within, and thou must watch 

well 
That they draw thee not in. 

Thou might be tempted by a dove of purest white, 
But it would lead to where all is black as night. 
If thou turn thine eyes and only follow thy Lord, 
Thy soul will expand, and thou shalt be 
Immersed in the glories of His Land. 
I pray, let thy higher life hold sway. 

The lower forces would desire thee their way, 
But thy goal is the highest temple untold, 
Where absolute purity and love do reign, 
8 S 



And the golden glory of God, 
Would to the lesser souls give pain ; 
But to thee it would be the gaining of thy 
reign. 

On the shores of time, there stands combined, 

Three symbols : a harp and a lyre, 

With an arrow shot through. The arrow 

Is a winged dart, sent out to pierce thy heart. 

And thou must wear a coat of mail, 

And then very quietly return the dart. 

Nature intended thee for a fine part, 

And thou must not allow the poisoned shafts 

Any place of lodgment in thee, but rather 

Turn them all, so that thy friends may see. 

Then they will gather their forces, 

And rally close to thee! 

Alas, I see many features that betoken care 
And trouble for thee, but of short duration only 
Will they be. Then thy sun of beauty and 

warmth 
Will spread his beams o'er thee. And thou? 
Why thou shalt be in a height of glory, 
And beauty of thought, that will give thee power, 
To speak, heal, and delve into almost any art. 

The moon and stars shine through the night, 
And with the morning's sun so bright, 
I shall be with thee, my love, 

Good-night ! 
86 



Circling round thy head are three doves, 

And with the deepening day, 

They will leave three tokens to show their love, 

A poem, as white as a dove, 

A flower for thee to love, 

And a letter from thy love. 

Aye, man, your good luck is right at your door. 
A few steps, and it will enter forevermore. 

Nature, in all its varied tones, 

Classes and significance, is but the effect 

Of a very simple process : 

The installation of the God Life. 

A wild rose grew so sweet on a thorny bush, 

It was hidden deep down under the leaves, 

And kept in the beautiful shade, 

That did not allow it to fade. 

The rain and the dew kept it moist and true 

So that at last when it was found and plucked 

It fairly radiated to all the world 

Its glistening dew and its colors so true, 

This wild rose of which I am telling you. 

There was a song, of notes so divine, 
That it lulled the heart like wine, 
Filling the soul with a mist that was softly 

toned, 
And then at last to burst into a glorious flame 
Of all the colors combined ! 

87 



Why do you want words to rhyme 
When the thoughts are all divine? 
The soul is not bound by rhyme. 

I wish I might take thee by the hand, 
And guide thee to where a banquet is spread 
At which thou wilt occupy a place of honor, 
Thou wilt be called upon for a toast. 
And what wilt thou say? Dost thou know? 
" Gentlemen, I thank thee. I can scarce do better 
Than repeat what I have said : I thank thee." 
And then thou wilt hold a glass high, 
And drink to all who are nigh. 

Sweetheart, sweetheart, art thou weary, 

Or shall we talk till day? Day comes 

With the first stroke of one. 

Dost thou realize that thou sleepest 

The first hours of day away? 

Just when one should be up and ready for the 

fray? 
Dost thou realize that from one to six 

The higher powers hold sway? 

The fires are burned, and almost out 
Too late, alas, I realize the past. 
My life I have spent, ah spent, 
No words could better describe 
To what extent I have spent. 
Deep is my sorrow, for I might have stood 
With the very God in his purity and bliss. 
88 



For my intense passions controlled, 

Would have taken me to heights untold. 

Now I have only regret, and regret 

Is a hard companion to dwell with; 

And daily I utter a prayer 

For the souls of those possessed of my gifts 

That their passions will not hold sway, 

But be directed to higher planes 

And with God only will they stay! 

Thou shalt sing like a thrush. Thy voice 

Will expand, -and fill the land 

With its golden song of sorrow, love. 

And the gay, happy throng. 

Thou shalt write some notes divine 

Which I will give thee from this heart of mine. 

Drink thou deeply of love, for to thee 

It always comes from above. 

Sent by a hand that knows how to guide, 

So take all that comes. 

Drink deeply, oh, so deeply, 

For thou hast need of a goodly share 

To help thee hold thy forces 

So that thy work shall compare 

If not stand higher in the realms of art 

Than any who have taken a part. 

Thy passions will soon hold sway, 

And carry thee far away. Thou wilt be lost 

89 



To all the earth, and only love will know thy 

way 
For thou wilt be hidden deep down in a mossy 

retreat • 
Where the song birds and flowers are now in 

full sweep, 
And the air is filled with the perfume of oranges 

sweet. 
There thou canst give full sway to thy love, 

And there thou must stay ! 

Many are the thorns 

Upon which we tread, 

But always there is a soft pillow 

For the head ! 

Right soon we will be steeped in a winter's snow, 

Which will cover the ground, ah me, 

And the people as well. 'Tis a sad story I have 

to tell. 
Of the storms that will rage and the winds that 

will blow, 
Bringing no comfort, but much woe. 
Thou must make a provision of stores, 
Or thou wilt be hungry for many a day, 
And that would not do for thee, for thy strength 
Thou must stay ! So away to the markets 
At the first streak of day, and buy all that thou 

canst ; 
For later thou wilt have to pay 
Ten times what they are worth, I say. 
90 



Thou hast been warned full many a time, 

And always in rhyme. Each soul caring for thee 

With a love that thou must acknowledge is free. 

Snow, gentle snow, falling so softly from above, 

Thou art so pure and white, and thou dost cover 

With a cloak that is light. 

But for all thy softness and whiteness, 

Death in thine arms doth lie, 

And sorrow with thee doth fly; but thou dost 

always 
Bring gayness and laughter, and much merry play 
For the children whom we are always after, to 

watch 
That they stay not too long in thy cold embrace. 
For thou art cold, my beautiful snow! 

The great chiefs will do some damage. 
They have not liked the lives they play 
Nor have they been treated right 
By the white folks who hold sway. 
They will break out unusually strong. 
There will be six different tribes 
Who will contribute to the throng. 
The savage breast is hard to civilize. 
They were happier far, in the woods so free 
Than bound and clothed as thou now dost see. 
Later my words will return to thee, 
And thou wilt say : " The good doctor was right, 
I see." 

91 



Limpity Boss was the name of a horse 
That was owned by Mike of Tavern Town. 
He had limped all his life, this dark brown horse 
But somehow he had managed to be boss. 
If he wished to stand still, he stood. 
If he wished to go with a wild gallop, 
Which was a laughable feat, 
Poor Mike was helpless, for Limpity Boss 
Possessed a mouth that no earthly hand could 

sever 
And therein lay all his strength, 

And I tell you he was quite clever! 

Oh my darling, I have thee in my arms. 

Thy head is rested on my breast, 

I am soothing all thy cares to rest. 

Dost thou know that I shall always give thee 

What is for thy best? If at times 

Life seems hard, and the burdens more than 

thou 
Canst bear, always remember that I am with thee, 
And thy burdens ready to share. 



Oh my darling, my sweet one, 
How can I bear to let thee from me go. 
If I could only protect thee from all woe, 
And cause thee to live in a garden of flowers. 
Then my soul would rejoice. But alas 
Thou hast thy road to travel, and my part 
Is to love, strengthen and give cheer 
For the weary hours that thou hast. 
92 



Thou art the sweetest soul divine, 

I give thee all this love of mine. 

Thou wilt soon dwell in a fairy dell, 

And there I will walk with thee, among the pearly 

shells 
In the moon's softened light, with thou, 

My heart's delight. 

This night thy soul will know the joy 
Of being loved by those below. 
Thy songs will merge out into the flow, 
And oh my, how quickly will they go. 
These songs of thine, filled with thy heart's over- 
flow. 



Through yon meadow runs a tiny stream, 

From the mountain gushes forth the spring. 

Through the table lands a river 

Between two countries runs a bay 

And an ocean in its bed of clay, 

Are like the people whom we meet. 

One like the stream in the meadow, 

Enriching all about. Another bubbling 

And sparkling like the spring, 

Bringing health and strength to all. 

Others flowing on so peaceful, like the river, 

giving calm to all in sight, 
The broader souls you meet, like the bay 
Separate countries by the games they play. 
Then the fighting, turbulent souls 
Who are forever on the rush and roll, 
93 



Are like the ocean, making things possible 

To all countries. 



Pick-a-pick, pick-a-pick, here we go, 
Round and round the circle, so ! 
Baby laughs with glee, and gurgles, 

More, me! More, me! 

Ah, gently soothing thought, thou art come again 

To relieve the tension that is in my brain. 

I only am happy when thou art nigh. 

Life is a blank to me except when my spirit 

friends fly. 
My life is sighing to be away, free from the 

burdens of day, 
As run in the city's wild rush. 
I long for the quiet country shade, the woods, 
The stream, and above all, the quiet glade 
Where my thoughts do flow, with a rush and a 

whirl 
That carry me far from the life below. 

Ready, aye ready, ready for the fight. 
Ready for the glorious light 
That will shortly come before my sight. 
At the close of night, just before the day 
Shall dawn, I shall write a poem 
That will stand for ages long. 



94 



I gave thee all this love of mine, 

Soon, ah soon, the earth will be white and still. 

The sounds will be hushed, for a season of cold 

is here, 
A sharp contrast to the present day's cheer. 
Thou wilt not sigh for ice to cool thy fevered 

lips, 
But thou wilt prefer good hot steaming cups of 

coffee. 
The merry sleigh bells will ring with cheer, 
But not just where thou canst hear. Store thee 

well 
Thy larder with warm food, and look well to 

thy little brood ; 
For the days of winter are near, indeed they are 

right here. 

The wild, fierce fires have raged for years 
But now they burn with an intensity of heat 
That threatens to destroy all within their reach. 
The fires that I am speaking of are below the 

earth, 
Under the bed of rock, so firm; but they have 

entered 
The souls and hearts of many, who dwell upon 
The earth's fair crown, and they burn with an 

unquenchable flame, 
Ready to destroy whate'er may come their way. 
So beware of any who think they have a debt 

to pay. 



95 



Love sways thy body, 
Love sways thy heart, 
Love should sway thy head! 

Birds all aquiver, blue is the sky. 

Green is the grass, the trees all in blossom. 

The flowers all blooming so gay and wild ; 

The butterflies flitting here and there, 

All intent on gathering the blossoms pure and 

rare. 
Just a little picture of the coming season of love, 
Which thou shalt spend in the mountains above ; 
In a dear little home, on a lonely road. 
But which will be a very charming abode. 

Drink of this nectar of life that I bring to thee. 
It will sharpen thy vision and draw forth thy 

song, 
And thou shalt warble as the birds on a summer 

morn. 
Thy strength and thy beauty shall bring to thy 

feet 
The world with its charm. Thy simplicity 
Will be a great joy, to the world jaded with 

fashion and form. 
Thou wilt be like a refreshing spring of clear 

water. 
Thy notes so wild and sweet shall fill each heart 
With a balm, and inspire new aims and thoughts ; 
So drink deeply of this nectar I bring to thee. 
It is gathered from the fruits of the trees 
That grow in a far distant land, and is brought 

9 6 



Many miles o'er the seas — and in its greatest 
beauty, 

I give it to thee ! 

I feel as though I were on a mountain-top, 

High above the earth ; and that mine eyes could 
pierce 

The clouds that hang so heavy all about. 

I see many strange sights, many beautiful gar- 
dens, 

Many battlefields, many fierce fires raging, 

Many scenes of splendor, many charming, peace- 
ful, 

Quiet country lanes. Many homes of wealth and 
beauty, 

Many humble little cottages, and Oh, so many 
scenes 

Of poverty, squalor and distress — and the busy 
hum 

Of the city life, in all its whirl. 

Then mine eyes turn above, where all is peace 

And everlasting love. The harmony of millions 
of souls 

Creating an atmosphere that is light, pure and 
sweet, 

And is conducive to only the growth and high- 
est 

Spiritual development. And as I stand, 

Poised between the two, a scene of wonder ap- 
pears 



97 



Before mine eyes. A little child comes walking 

forth 
From the mountain side, right on the road that 

leads to me. 
The climbing is hard for one of his years, 
But he walks with a firm, firm tread, his face 

o'erbeaming 
With smiles. At last he reaches my side, 
And I see he bears a crown of laurel leaves, 
Which he lays upon my outstretched hands, 
And with never a word, he turns and flies 
Straight down the mountain road. I watch his 

little head 
Till lost to view. What means this crown? 
From whence came it? And then a quiet whis- 
per I hear, 
" My brother, one of God's angels has brought 

this to you." 
And the scene gradually drifts away. 
I awake with startled eyes, for I have been 

drowsing 
In my chair ; but wonder of wonders ! In my 

hands 
I look ag;ain ; the laurel crown is there ! 



■*>• 



The wisdom of the owl is beyond reproach, 
So I pray thee beware, of all this company 
That is so fair; in which thou wilt shortly be 

launched. 
The devil and his kind, lie hidden 
Beneath their words, so beware ! 

9 8 



And watch that thou dost get thy share, 

Or by a trick so fine that it will hardly be there, 

Thou wilt lose more than half thy share, 

So again I say, beware ! 

The fires are burning fierce and wild. 
My soul leaps out to meet its mate ; and we 
Are lost to the world, and its love and hate. 



Passion is like a great cloud surrounding us, 
And for a time shutting out all other senses ; 
Ideals, desires, aims, hopes, ambitions 
Are lost to view; only passion reigns. 
And when the cloud has lifted, and we again 
Resume our view, life seems changed — 
Sometimes softened, at others, coarsened, 
All according to the condition in which passion 
found us. 



On the winged spears that fly, 

Thou shalt be enabled to see 

The heart's best thoughts sent out to thee. 

Thou must be ready, for they do not pause, 

As ever onward their journeys must be. 

Later thou canst tell me 

Of the messages they leave with thee. 



Sweetest soul, dearest love, 
Thou art like a flower. 

99 



To love thee is to be surrounded 
By the sweetest perfumed bower. 

I am only symbolic, I have nothing to bring 

Except to say, beware of things that fly 

And go in the air ; for if thou art not careful 

Thou wilt meet thy death in the air. 

It will come like a bolt from the sky 

And pierce thy breast ere thou know it is nigh. 

Thou wilt not have time for even a cry, 

Ere thy soul will fly, straight to its God above, 

And thou wilt be with the souls that thou dost 

love. 
I crawl on the ground in the form of a snake, 
The most humble of creatures that God doth 

make, 
In order to bring you this warning, 
And have waited till thou wast free, 
Until all other controls were out of view of thee. 
I cannot stay; I must away, lest others should 

see 
And know of the warning I have brought to 

thee. 

True simplicity consists in looking only to the 
heart. 

Loving all our fellow men brings us into an 
atmosphere 

Of perfectly balanced consistency, which is con- 
ducive 

To our highest personal development. 
ioo 



A raven sat on a tree, Croak, croak, said he! 

Thou art in search of news I see. 

I shall give thee a message to spread far and 

near, 
'Tis a message dark and drear. 
O'er thy country will spread fear 
In the coming season of the year. 
Floods, snow, famine, waves that do overflow, 
Fires beneath the ground that will rage 
And spread around, causing a break in the rocks 

below, 
Upon which the world moves with so much show. 
All these disasters will be distributed o'er the 

land, 
Bombs which have not taken much place 
In this country's active scenes, will come to stay 
And a high rule will sway! 

Oh my darling, how soft and dear thy touch! 
Thou dost arouse all the finer senses. 
My soul thrills with an ecstasy of delight 
And my heart is lulled to rest, 
As on the billowy clouds of night. 

Truth, Peggy is a dear! 

Always wanting to put forth love and cheer. 

Robin Red Breast, what dost thou bring? 

A note of the coming Spring, when the world 

Will be clothed in colors gay, 

And sadness will flee far away. 

IOI 



Is thy note for me, I pray, or art thou only 
resting 

On thy journey's way? Ah, it is for me. 

Dost thou know the contents, 

My Robin Red Breast? Thou must read it 

While I do rest, for I have carried it long and 
far. 

With trembling hands I open the note, 

And find twisted within, a single pearl 

Attached to a golden pin. 

Never a word! From whom comes this token 

Of loving thought ? To whom does the robin be- 
long? 

Ah me, it might have been killed 

By any chance shot; but no, it was guided 

And guarded by unseen hands, 

This Robin, who has brought me the jewel 

From other lands ; and oft again he will come 

In the quiet of the evening shade; 

Always bringing a jewel from my love of the 
glade. 

Dear, why dost thou doubt? 

All that comes to thee is true 

And not worthy of a doubt from you ! 

Loudly herald forth the coming morn, 
For at the waning of the day, when the Sun 
Has gone to rest, and taken all his glorious 
colors 



1 02 



FYom out the West, thou shalt fold thy hands 

and say 
■' I have finished, I have finished," 

And forevermore shall rest. 



The devil will roam right soon, so beware 

Of his loom, or he will weave thee in 

Amid colors bright and gay, and much laughter 

And play; for he is a right merry soul, 

The devil, I know, with always a smile and 

caress, 
Much patience and endless zest, 
He is charming, and full of wit, 
And always a plausible fellow. 
That is all I know, 

Except that remorse is always behind him hid 
And travels along with the devil. 

Red roses I bring to thee 
Signs of my love, that thou mayest see. 
Sweetheart, pet, be thou not troubled, 
Remember I am always with thee. 

Peggy, P e ggy> why art thou so late? 
I have been waiting such a time, 
For just a smile of thine. 

Smile, my friend! 

Be not chary of giving them about. 



103 



O my love, how can I bear 

Not to see thee in thy place of honor, 

Or across the deep blue sea. 

But the time will come, 

O my soul of light, 

When we shall walk together 

Where there is no night. 

The light of soul reflects upon the body 

In many wonderful ways. 

Not the least of these being charity. 

O my heart's delight, 
Come, and we will away ! 
Away to the mountain heights. 

The day is here, and I 

Shall have my tasks to do. 

God give me strength 

To sow the seed of love and truth. 

Ah me, the time is come when I must leave 
The old familiar haunts of boyhood's happy days, 
And throw my lot with countless other lads, 
Each striving for some fame. My chances now 

look small, 
But time will tell the story of us all. 

You are a dear Irish maiden, 
With hair and eyes so brown, 
104 



You will be laden 

All with love and song. 

There stands a figure, bold and firm, 
And in his hand a sword is drawn. 
It will cause disaster dire, and much woe 
Ere it is sheathed. Then the figure 
Is doomed to fall, and rise no more. 

Beware of a man very smooth of speech. 

He is winding, slowly winding thee 

In a web both tight and strong. 

And ere thou dost awake to his soul, 

It will be too late, for all will be gone, 

And thou shalt be alone with thy fate. 

Winding, ever winding, with a firm and steady 

hand; 
But thou hast power to force that hand to rest. 
And if thou knowest what is for thy best, 
Thou wilt cause his hand to rest. 

" Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men," 
Has been sung from year to end; 
But now shall come a wild revolt; 
From end to end the world shall rise. 
The noise of battle shall rend the skies, 
And the hated powers o'erthrown. 

Ah, well, my love, you must away, 
There are other things to do. 
105 



All things calling you to go, 

And I will away. 

I come with the day's fair dawning, 
To bring a message of love. 
Love from your God above. 

Dear little fairies, 

I wonder where, they stay, 

All the long, long day. 

But the night is soon coming, 

When they will away, 

To revel, in dance and play. 

Yes, in the early morn, 
Before the strife of day 
Has pierced the mists 

Of truth and love ! 



Come out into the fresh, bright air, 
And let thy thoughts away. 
They will return at the close of day, 
And bring thee an added charm 
For having been away ! 



I am in a lover's world to-day, 
Now sad, now gay. 
One minute life seems bright, 
106 



The next I would away. 

My heart beats high, 

And then dark fear assails me, 

I wonder why? 

Have I not love, and what else 

Is there in this life, I pray? 

There is coming to thee a rush of thought 
So fine and high, that thy soul will enraptured 

He, 
Soothed and swayed, that for a time, 
Thy life will move on an even way; 
And thou shalt send forth for some truths 
That will for all time stay. 

Thoughts of peace and beauty shall enter thy 

soul, 
Together with a joy that will grow, as the years 

unfold. 
And thou shalt tell some stories that will gladden 
The hearts of men; and their fame will never 

end. 

A prophecy thou truly shalt have. 
Astonishing things will shortly come forth. 
Among the first is the death of a king 
Right sudden and short. A war will reign, 
Look out for your man who soon sails home. 
He will stir things so high, 
That none will be able, bread to buy. 
A summer of intense heat periods 
107 



Followed by extremely cool days, 

Frost almost in midsummer. High winds 

And widespread electrical storms. 

Much gold will be found, and precious stones 

Will come to light. Watch well the Roman 

Catholic Church, 
And China will know an uprising, 
Beyond anything as yet dreamed of. 
Russia will be ruled by a different hand. 
The Island of Manhattan will receive 
Its full, full share, of all the horrors 
That are hovering in the air. 

A careless blow, and a careless throw, 
And that is the way your prospects go. 

Travelling on its way is a mighty rock, 

Which soon will fall and sway 

The entire earth of to-day. 

Each section of the world will respond 

In its own characteristic way. 

Volcanic eruptions, snow, cold and ice, 

Immense tidal waves, heat of an intensity 

That can scarcely be borne. 

A repetition of all the horrors 

That were ever known, will result 

From the crash of this immense stone. 



Ah, those little pink toes, 

I wonder where they all do grow, 

108 



In a garden, in rows, and rows, and rows, 
Oh my, all those little pink toes. 

How the thought of a good, generous deed 
Makes one vibrate with a glow, 
And the heart respond with an added flow. 
What a pleasurable sense of good in all the 

world, 
And for a time one dwells in harmony of mind, 
And is lost to the weariness and depression 
Reflected from so many evil thoughts 
That are constantly being thrown into space. 

Waiting till the sun is high, 
Waiting till the clouds roll by, 
Waiting till the night is nigh, 

Waiting, waiting. 

" Dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return," 
Quoth the Bible, in not a sweet refrain. 
But that applies only to the shell, 
For the real body and soul are absorbed 

In a higher realm. 

Rest thy soul in peace, 
Keep thy heart always bright, 
For thou shalt soon come to light, 
Of all things that at present 
Seem not so bright. 



109 



Ah, for the rest of years ! 

O for the fleeting time! 

For the joys that were mine. 

Alas, I can but repine. 

O my love, had I been but thine, 

To sail with thee, o'er the limpid waters, 

Thy hand clasped in mine. 

Thine eyes speaking love divine, 

Thy heart singing a low, soft song, 

That carried my soul on its rhythm, 

To rest with thee, 

Amid God's glorious prisms, 
My name I withhold 
For yet a little while. 
But I am always with thee, darling 

To make thee smile. 

Now comes a parting of the ways 

And my heart is sad indeed, 

For thou must go on thy long road home, 

While I — I, stay till another day is done. 

O for words to express my visions divine. 
They are so far beyond this language of mine, 
That my heart sighs and droops, 
With all the glorious sights that I wish were 
thine. 

Radiant with all love and light, 
The flowers are coming forth to sight, 
A wealth of color both soft and bright, 
no 



Bringing sweet dreams of a land 

Where there is no night. 

Make a sanctuary, and keep it for thine own. 
There allow thy thoughts to flow. 
Dimly now they hover, these angel lights 

That thou must know. 

To dream, O my soul, thou shalt be given a 

time, 
When the world is mad with its rush for gold. 
Then thou mayest thy dreams unfold. 

Into thy new life soon thou shalt be, 
Watch well, and some astounding things thou 
shalt see. 

Sinking softly into rest, 

Is a soul of whom thou shalt hear, 

And thou wilt say, 

In God I pray, will he rest! 

There stands on a broad, high way, 
A temple of art and music 
In which, some day, thou shalt put forth thy 
lays. 

Courage, soul, courage, 
For soon thy day shall break, 
in 



One long dream day, 
From which thou shalt emerge 
At night, a soul freed 
For its everlasting flight. 

Mark well each milestone, 
For later they will guide thee 
Into thy heavenly home. 

Life is one vast experience 
To fit us for a wider work 

In a sphere beyond ! 

On the morrow thou shalt be free 

To go forth once more. 

Thou must join thy forces 

With the gladsome ones of earth 

And dwell with them 

In all the fullness of thy new birth. 

Mike Magillecuddy was in love with a lass 

Of hair and eyes so brown, 

As made his head all whirl round and round. 

Johnny Brown, he went to town 

And came back with ne'er a crown 

But a head, the size of which 

He thought the world would ne'er go round. 



112 



Perchance a wild bird, flying high in the air 

Should circle around thy head, 

Offer him a home in thy garden so fair. 

Slowly he will come to know thee, 

And e'er long will repay thy care, 

With a love that for all time thou shalt share. 



Never fear, my child, and never have a care, 
For thou shalt always be as happy and free 

As the birds of the air. 



My heart is pierced with many thorns, 
But it ne'er will break. 
For tucked away deep in one corner 
There is a spring that wells up 
With everlasting hope and balm. 

Away, away, with all this care, 
And fly thou must, 

To other worlds most fair. 



Thou hast served thy time full well, 
Now thou must share the glory 
Thy gods have prepared. 

Beautiful thoughts will come to thee, 

On the morrow, when the woods thou shalt see 

With all the budding beauty 

Of the glory that is theirs to be. 

1 113 



To-night a soul will wander to the dreamless 

shore 
To awake in the morning's light, where sorrow 

and care 

Are no more ! 

There is no night of sorrow, trouble or care, 
That is not followed by a day most fair. 

Away, away, ancTlet us feel 

A breath of the Summer sea, 

The salt on the air, from the meadows fair, 

Will give us new life, and we shall be gay, 

Happy, and as birds, so free! 

What wonderful tales will be whispered 

On the incoming waves of the sea. 

And you and I must listen for a song 

That shall be wafted on the air, 

Just a faint, sweet melody, 

Of harmony, beauty and love, from everywhere. 

I see a hand held out as a warning, 

To beware, beware, beware ! 

Of what, I cannot see. 

But I know the hand is sent from God, 

With a loving care for me. 

So I shall watch my paths, where'er they be, 

And pray to God that He only, shall lead of me. 



114 



The test, the final test will be given unto thee. 
And if thou work out bravely all thy score, 
Thou shalt wear thy crown forever more. 

Away on a shore I see a home of beauty, wealth 

and love. 
There thou shalt rest, and Oh, how thou shalt be 

blest ! 

My days are full of joy and song, 
My life is full of love. 
So wide the range of vision, 
I can see my God above. 

My days are full of joy and song, 
No sorrows wait on me, 
No cares intrude upon my soul, 
For it is filled with God's entirety. 

Come little birds, 
Sing thy sweet song, 
That tells us all 
Of the love thou hast, 
For the day's fair dawn. 

Night casts a halo over all things. 

The busy throng are hurrying on 
To their tasks of day. 
US 



Oh I pray that each may live, 
So that when the final task is done 
They may gain the glory 
Of the Everlasting One ! 



i fe 



To-day is market day, 
And I'm all in a flutter 

With such a tub of butter ! 

Harmony, harmony, oh what bliss 

Is thus obtained. 
I pray all success to the new Club list, 

And may harmony always reign. 

Well, my love, I feel that thou must rest thee 

For the night is far along, 

And thou must be up and doing, 

Bright and early in the morn. 

So good night, my love, 

And that thy dreams may be of song! 

I only wish that I could rest thee, dear 
In these tender arms of mine ! 
I would love thee dear, if thy soul permits of 
mine. 

Roses are dreams of God's bliss. 

The clearest running water is not more pure 
Than my love for you. 
116 



It rushes, and circles, and swirls 
In an ecstasy of love for you. 

You will shortly come to a turning of the ways 
And on its decision rests your crown. 
Fear not, you will be guided to the right. 
Put forth all your force of love and truth, 
And you will wear the crown. 

In the morning's light 

All dark shadows flee. 

So with all our troubled thoughts 

If we turn them unto thee. 

Thine eyes are deep wells of love, 
Filling all with ineffable delight. 

The mists of purple are floating 

From o'er the sea, 
Bringing an exquisite melody, 
From all the water fairies, 

Dancing there so free. 

My love is in a most entrancing place, 
Right on the cheek of a darling face. 
Such a dear, sweet face, 
Radiant with all love and grace. 

The morning sun is breaking 
Into a beauteous day. 
117 



I shall try to live in harmony 
With all the little things of life. 
I pray my day will end 
In bringing all my soul to light, 
To light of God's eternal love. 

Shading, shading, just a little here, 
And just a little there, 
Would bring so much beauty 
Into so many paths of life. 

I love my love, like a wild, wild rose, 
She is so sweet and untamed, 
She sheds a light so far, so bright, 
That all are drawn to the flame. 

Thou art the dearest thing that ever lived, 
So sweet, so tried, so true. 

Oh the entrancing beauty of the woods. 
Such deep mysteries hidden in every nook. 
Such a world of wealth of flowers, 
Hidden in each glade, dear dainty messengers, 
Of God's love and grace. 

Mysteries and hidden things, 
Are always entrancing. 



118 



Love, love, is one sweet song, 
Until something comes along 
And causes a lull in the song ! 

The sun is getting high, 

The heat increases with the day, 

But you my dear are in a spot of rare delight. 

For such a way the breeze does blow, 

That all is cool and calm and light. 

I will write of wonders of the coming genera- 
tion, 
They have only just begun to fly, 
But shortly will increase their speed and light, 
And into other worlds shall fly. 

The merry little dancers, 
Flitting to and fro, 
Are so happy and so joyous, 
That to me, so far outgrown 
All such childish play, 
Sigh and sigh for childhood, 
Happy, happy days. I would that all 
Might keep the childish spirit of dancing, 
To all their work, and play. 

There on a mountain I shall stand 
And watch with eager eyes 
For signs of coming dawn, 



119 



The dawn of light to souls 
Now steeped in sin. 

The light will surely come, 
My soul's intense desire to help 
Will not be cast abroad, 
In Vain ! 

A rose of sweetness, far surpassing 
Anything on earth, is ready now 
To spread its perfume 

Over all the world. 
Great truths will send forth 
In simple strain, so all may grasp 
The meaning of the beauteousness 

Of God's light. 

Heartache, what do you want of me? 
I am not ready for thee ! 

O love, come and take me to thine arms, 
My soul is hungry for thy face. 
Come my love, delay not till the morning 
Or perchance my heart will break. 

Baby, darling little baby, 
Mother's love go with thee always. 
If thy life be one of pleasure or of strife. 
Where'er thy path may lead thee 
My love shall always follow. 
1 20 



Come in the evening, when the sun has set 
And the duties are put aside. 
We then can rest in peace and talk 
Of all the things of life. 

Will you come with me? 
And in my land you'll see, 
Such a wealth of beauty, 
Love and poetry, 

That your soul will not descend. 

Idly sitting on the sand 

Where the earth and ocean meet, 

My soul flies out to other lands. 

I can picture, oh such scenes 
In the ages past and gone, 
Scenes of grandeur and of storm. 

O'er the fields the mists are stealing 
As the evening falls in shade, 
Gladly then I take me to the trysting place 
To gather thoughts of love and grace, 
That I may, on the coming day 
Bear my trials with patience, and with faith 
That all my trials are given with a wisdom 
Far beyond my comprehension, to develop 
All my Powers ; so that as my life draws on, 
I shall stand, a rugged tower, high, free, 
And pointing straight to Heaven. 
121 



Fear, go 'way, far into the dark, dark night. 
I have not even a little corner for thee 
To rest thy flight. 

Cherry blossoms, all pure and white, 
Apple blossoms, pink and light, 
What beautiful messengers thou art! 
Thou dost tell of the coming of thy fruit, 
Which is luscious and fine in every part. 
All touched and toned by nature's finest art. 
O thou dear fruit blossoms, 
Thine is such a dainty part. 

There is a flag of victory waving for thee. 
Dost thou not see it? Brave, and free? 
O, my soul, it is for thee ! 

Such a love will come to thee, 
With the dawning of another year, 
Of flowers, warmth and sunshine bright. 
Thou wilt be enwrapped in a cloud 
Of peace and delight. 

Sweet ho, sweet ho, where are you going 

In such haste? Wait and I will join you. 

Is your quest for a bonnet, gown, or something 

fair 
For my lady to wear, or only some candy, 
A five o'clock tea, of which I can share 



122 



And whisper words of love when the waiters are 
not there. 



Yonder lies a body, cold, rigid, 
For the soul has gone. 
And no more will that body be swayed 
By passion, lust, or desire for gain. 
The soul will be amazed 
By the vast eternity to which it has flown. 
But once it gains the power 
It will advance to realms almost unknown, 
So high! 

There stands a patient figure, 

Holding forth a hand. 

Wilt thou not extend a welcome? 

Forgive and forget the wrongs once done 

To thee. They came not so much from a heart 

As from a head swayed by the crowd 

Of unreal things, that surged so high, 

That for a time thy beauty and goodness 

Were entirely lost to view. 

But now he yearns for thee and would prove 

A friend indeed, good, tried and true. 

Hollow, hollow, rings the sound, 
All is mockery, in and around, 
Be thou not decoyed, 

Hollow, hollow, is their sound. 



123 



Thou art in a maze, 

And it will need much turning 

And studying, for thee to emerge 

Once more, into the clear straight paths. 

Peace, like a river, shall flow on through thy 
life. 

Taking all the strife; and thou shah rest con- 
tent. 

With thy portion in life. 

A mighty man will fall right soon. 
Sudden and short will come his doom. 
There will he much mourning, pomp and show. 
Hut very few hearts will break or heads bow 
low. 

There will soon be much dissatisfaction 

With the heads of the land. 

Their doings will he talked of 

And noticed, in other lands. 

Thy personal schemes will round out well. 

And thy funds will swell ; 

For Dame Fortune has concluded to smile on 

thee. 
So watch for the sign that will be shortly shown 

to thee. 

Ah inc. what is this strange sight I see. 
The ocean rises like a mighty tower 
And breaks upon the land, and it is no more ! 
i-4 



Thy ship Is anchored safe and firm. 
Thou dosl no1 need to fear the storm. 

Thou canst ride at will on the ocean's broad ex 

pan/:, 
And always thou wilt find a port in every storm. 

On a lonely hill there stands a cottage 

I .' -ilerl in a wealth of vines. 

Surrounded by a garden of exquisite flowers. 

The trees are fine and rare, 

'I he walk', are shaded, cool, 

And fruit is growing everywhere. 

'I here is a little brook, runs through 

The ore hard fair. Wouldn't you and 1 

Just love to be there. 

I low we'd revel in the flower,, 

And walk the shaded paths, 

Enjoying the luscious fruits 

And to dream by the brook. 

There is a river of ice and snow 
That will shortly overflow. 
One more scene of disaster and woe. 
The strike that now is in full swing 
Will be lashed to a fury, 
And then out of the ruins will spring 
A vast new system, that will bring harmony, 
And peace to all. 

'I he night is wild. I shiver 
And draw my sable robes close, close. 
125 



Alas, I cannot warm my heart. 

It seems to freeze, and also I 

In every part. What can be the trouble 

With this heart ? Has it run its course ? 

Ah me, I fear this night 

Will see it laid to rest, and I fly, 

Where God shall deem it best. 

Ten little toes, pink and white, 

Ten chubby little fingers, 

O such a darling mite. 

He is mother's precious darling boy 

All right. Saucy little face 

And snubby little nose, 

With a rosebud mouth, in which 

He tries to put his little pink toes. 

The name of this baby, who knows ? 

Ah Rome, my beautiful Rome ! 

A great plague will scourge thy land 

And thou wilt be besieged 

By enemies, on every hand. 

Oh Rome, Rome, my best beloved land ! 

O my love, I come to thee 
In the softly dawning day, 
And so gently, gently, 
Soothe thy cares away. 



126 



The morn's bright light is breaking 
And it brings the promise 

Of a rare and beauteous day. 

Tone! Toning! O what harmony toning can 
bring into our lives. 

The water sprites are dancing 
On the waves of beauteous blue. 
The dainty little fairies of the sea! 

Sadness, fly away! 

We have no room for you. 

You must find some other home 

Where there is nothing else to do. 

All this strife, it wears my soul. 
All these heavy, sordid thoughts 
Break thy harmony divine, 
And cast me down, far down, 
So that I do but repine. 

My soul is seared by resentful, angry thoughts, 
My heart is bruised and torn apart, 
By those for whom I have stood. 
O how I long to rest in Thine arms, my God, 
To know only harmony, in thy beautiful world, 
Where the sun doth ever shine; and all the at- 
mosphere 

127 



Is laden with Thy love, divine. 

O my God, come and take me to be Thine. 

Love like thine can transform 
The most sordid individual, 

Into a pleasing companion. 

Light as a feather floating in the air, 

Comes a message. Dost thou wish to put it 
forth 

So that all may read ? 'Tis like the written mes- 
sage 

On the wall; it will bring disaster to all. 

But I would say ere another month 

To turn thy face from the wall of water, 

That will break upon the shore ; 

For after the break, the shore will be no more. 



Sunlight on the water, and a merry wind, 

Which doth so gaily play; 

Until lost at the wonder of her power, 

Sad havoc doth she create in a day. 

Mighty boats she will lay right low 

And cities will vanish as in a dream, 

When at the height of her power she doth 
blow, 

This merry wind which did dance with the sun- 
light 

On the water! 



128 



Smile, or perchance thy soul will saddened grow, 
And thy thoughts will be dark and low. 
Hovering always near the ground, 
In the shade that thy soul casts around. 

Keep thy head high, thy heart light, 
Thy tongue ever witty and bright. 
Then thy soul shall never know the meaning of 
night. 

Within thyself are all the necessary bonds 
To bind thy heart and soul, 
For the work of which thou hast been told. 
All outward force does but delay thy course, 
Look to thyself. Put thy thoughts out bright. 
They will illumine many a dark, dark night, 
And bring a host of souls to light of their higher 
life. 



Merrily flows the tide of the river 

On which thou shalt abide. 

There Fame shall nestle close beside. 

Sheltering care thou must extend, 

And soon thou with Fame shalt fly, 

But always thou shalt return to the merry tide. 

I may not bring to light new stars, 
But perchance assist some feeble ray to grow, 
And send forth thoughts 
That will seem from God to flow. 
129 



I am wondering if my mind will ever run on 

smooth, 
And kind shall be all thoughts that flow my 

way, 
So that only love I may absorb, 
Until I live in God's thought above. 

To me there comes a faint, wild cry : 
Beware, beware of the elements of the air, 
And hold thyself far from the ocean's maddened 
roll, 

For it will leave scarce a soul. 

Thine own is coming to thee, straight as a dart, 
And from o'er the sea, I hear strange tales 
Concerning thee. Dost thou really know whom 

thou art? 
Later, astonished I think thou shalt be 
When thy degree thou dost see, 
Emblazoned so that the world shall know of 

thee. 

Well and good shall be thy days. Thy heart 
Shall sing forth praise. Many loves will turn 

to thee. 
And at the noontide of thy life, 
High thy glory and fame shall be. Why? 
Because God thou dost see. 



130 



Come, Love and whisper sweetest notes to me. 
A song only for mine ear to hear. 
One that to me shall be very dear. 

Sing, Bird, of all the glories, as thou fliest along, 
Thy sight, what wonders does it see. 
The ever changing panorama of land, sky and 
sea. 

Limpid flows the waters, 

Soft- and low the song runs on ; 

But I cannot claim my own. I must wait 

Until a rushing stream comes bounding on. 

Then my sight will clearer grow, 

And my thoughts o'erflow. 

Out into this world they shall go. 

To perchance amuse awhile, 

And teach some souls their God to know. 



Burden not thy soul with all these cares 
That fly so free. Throw them far from thee, 
And look thou only God's beauties to see. 

Watch thee well the next coming month. 
See that thy plans are laid firm and secure. 
Thou wilt need a head free from indecision, 
And all thy powers alert, so that thine enemies 
May be placed right low, and to thee 
Shall bow as they go, out from thy life and sight, 
And then peace shalt thou know. 
131 



Rest, rest, rest. Thou thy soul must rest. 
Later, O how thou shalt be blest. 
But now, thou must rest. 

Thou must guard thy life well. 
Give not of thy forces in the coming winter spell. 
But rather hide thyself in a charming 
Summer dell. There new thoughts will come to 

thee, 
Which later the world shall see. 
And O how blessed thou shalt be. 

Oft the contrary winds do blow 

And we are tossed and turned, and know not 

Which way to go. But above and below 

These winds that blow, 

Are clear straight paths that thy guides do 

know. 
So rest thy soul and let the contrary winds blow. 

My soul is wildly tossed, as in a tempest high. 

My body answers to the call, and Lo! 

I am one burning, quivering mass 

And with every moment its intensity doth grow. 

And in passion's arms my life, 

Oblivious to all, and then my soul to God 

doth go. 
There flow my strongest thoughts, 
My widest schemes do grow. Who shall say 
We need not passion to drive our lives on their 

upward bent. 

132 



How else would the streams that flow through 

us have vent? 
God in his wisdom ordained all things 
And only man's views make them seem unclean. 

The gleams of light that travel far 

On the ocean of life, 

Bring to thee much of the strife, 

Which thou must blot outright, 

By thy hidden force of love and might. 

Thy soul hath chosen well. Unto thee 

Shall come a life, 

Which thou shalt live out, firm and bright. 

My mind is laid on a scheme, so wild, 
So fraught with danger. 
Deep, dark, will be my paths 
But to what a glorious garden 
Will I emerge at last. 

When On High thou dost stand, 
The secret of life thou shalt know. 
It will flow on through ages, 
The source or vibrations. 
Men may study and work to seize life 
In their grasp — but only those 
Who have passed beyond the gay whirl 
Of life's reign here, 
Are permitted to know, see, hear, 
And feel God ! 

133 



Dreams are floating in the air. Catch one 
If thou canst — and from it evolve a theme 
On which to form thy play. 
The one that is to bring thee forth to light of 

day. 
Come, catch one, whilst thou may. 

There dwelt in a castle 

A knight bold, and eager for the fray. 

He wandered into other lands, 

And there met a maiden who did him sway, 

And bend to her will. 

He fought her battles, brave and true, 

And she, what cared she? Only on his aid 

She drew. He never dreaming 

That her soul was dross, 

Lavished his love and gained his cross. 

Then began a new era in the history of her 

throne. 
This queen he had made his own. 
Revels high were held, 
Lovers by the score were melded. 
With head held high, but heart ready 
To droop and die, walked this queen's consort, 
Ever courteous, ever true, he commanded 
A respect for his queen that was not her due. 
Before the mad revel and many lovers had come, 
A daughter was to him born, 
An embodiment of love divine, 
In her eyes did shine, a light that was not of 

earth. 
Daily he watched her grow, 
134 



And at the first, wee toddling steps, 

It seemed his heart would o'erflow, 

With grateful love and thanks to God, 

For this dainty little flower that was 

In his garden of weeds to grow. 

The years colled on, scandal after scandal 

Breathed high, and at last his queen did die, 

Thrown from a horse on a wild ride 

At a time when his will she defied. 

Another page to turn in the history of the throne. 

Another era begun, but this time ruled 

By one. of God's own; for the King Consort 

His flower had kept, as dainty and sweet 

As when from God her soul had crept, 

Into his poor drooping heart, 

And which to his life was new courage to impart, 

To enable him to play his hand with all his art. 

And the kingdom to retain for his daughter's 

later part. 
For the queen, with no restraining hand 
Would have scattered her powers far o'er the 

land, 
And have left her throne so weak 
That at the thrust of a sword, 
Deep down would have gone the crown, 
And its book of history closed forevermore. 
The new queen ruled the land so fair, 
Guided and guarded by her father's hand, every- 
where. 
Ceaseless in his watchful care, 
Lest her foot should strike a snare. 



135 



Many lovers wound their way, but none found 

favor 
In her sight — no, not they. 
Till one came along with a laurel leaf, and one 
Of bay. He stood for all that was true, 
And his sword that now was sheathed, 
Would flash at the first call of the trumpet, 
And side by side with his men would he fight, 
Till the battle was won, for victory 
Ever was his. A fine trio they made, 
Three souls that acted as one. 
And their glorious fame that has lived through 

ages, 
Not only for one. So with all deeds 
That are well done. They live, grow, 
And finally form a foundation 
Upon which other true souls can build their 

castles 
Of fame. Only the good and true 
Can stand the test. Others are blown out 
As a small flame, and that is the end of their 

fame. 

The cords of love that bound thee to a duty 
Are rent in twain ; cut by a hand that rules the 

world, 
And will by thee always stand. 
And soon shall guide thee to another land. 
Where thy highest hopes will realize. 
Thou shalt be honored, thy health will restore, 
And then thou shalt labor for thy God evermore. 

136 



I have such a feeling of care and trouble, 
And a fear, as of despair, is in the air. 
What mean all these rumblings and mutterings, 
These high black clouds that roll out from every- 
where. 
They make me shiver ; and pray that I 
Shall be delivered from the stones that shortly 

will fly 
And cause many to die. . . . 

There stands to thee on the coming days 

A power with which thou shalt sway the world 

Thy way, and by thy side it shall always stay. 

Give forth thy song, 
Shout out to the hurrying throng, 
The beauties of thy sight, 
As thou walkest along. 

The glorious lights that are now withheld 

Will soon shine forth, 

And in their rays thou shalt stand, 

A figure bold and straight, 

Upheld by thy God; and of thee none shall say 

One word, but of love and praise. 

I see a milk white horse. 
Its trappings of gold are glistening 
In the sunlight, waiting for a rider, 
To take on a journey that will last 
137 



Far into the night, 

Out on the desert beyond the light so bright. 
The rider so tall and straight, 
Bears thee a message full of love, 
And plans for thy future fate. 
Canst thou see into the night so dark? 
And beyond the first faint glow 
Of the morning's light? that will break 
Into a glorious day, when thou shalt ride 
By thy lover's side, out on the desert wild, 
Thou, his bride. 

Darling soul, I wish thou in mine arms did rest, 

Thy head upon my breast. 

Thy soul pouring out to mine, sweetest strains 

That God has given thee from the best. 

Thou hast been blest. Thy life has broadened 

out 
Into spheres wide and grand. 
Thou hast power to control the land, 
If thou wouldst form a band. But alas, 
Thou art far too modest in thine estimate of 

self, 
And always in the shadow thou dost stand. 
Soon the sunlight will play upon thy figure bold, 
And God shall wrap thee in a cloak of gold, 
So that dazzling lightness thou shalt send, 
Into every heart that unto thee shall bend. 

My darling, I have stayed from thee right long, 
But now I must see thy face, 

138 



Feel thy soul so dear, and give thee some 
Bright words of cheer. 

Love, come, out with me, 
And we shall wander by the lea. 
Content just to wander, 
You and me. 



Before me stands a stately crowned head, 

But sad the face, and sadder yet the heart, 

For soon his country will see an overflow, 

And all his people scattered far and wide. 

His throne, one of the oldest of the land, 

And upon whom nature had seemed to shower 

All her blessings of power, wealth, 

And knighthood grand. Now alas, 

It has not long to stand. 

For a mighty revolution will occur. 

All the old traditions will be scattered 

To the air, and class be trodden down. 

Hence the sadness of this his kingly soul, 

Who weeps and prays for his country as a whole. 

Silver bells are ringing gaily, 

O'er the land the strains of music flow, 

In a gay, triumphant march. 

Loud and long the cheers do ring, 

And the cry : " Hail thou mighty King," 

Shall rend the air. 



139 



Glistening, Glistening, 

Are the thoughts that now come forth. 

All, on the sky is written, 
By the angels as they fly; 
And if thou dost watch 
It shall be for thee to cry. 
The first wild breath of beauty, 
That shall float on the air 
Will come from thy soul 
And permeate everywhere. 

Thou art so pure, sweetest grace is thine, 
I would thy soul compel, to accept of mine. 

Sing only of thy love, 

Then thy song will float above. 

Perchance thou shalt win a crown, 

Wear it in full sight of those that come around. 



Thou hast forgotten even my name? 
Is it not sad to be of so little fame? 



Behold yon warrior, in all his grace of form. 
A descendant of the mighty Vikings he, 
Who trod the earth full many a year, 
And conquered all his foes, 
Of every nation that has been told : 
140 



Now bends his head in sorrow that is sad to be- 
hold. 

Out of the mists comes forth a song, 

Radiant with glory as it rolls along. 

Dazzling in its lightness and brightness 

This song of a thousand songs! 

This song of songs, as it flows along, 

Renews the brightness of God in hearts gone 

wrong. 
It enriches the lives of those who weep and toil, 
It touches" the hearts of those who smile; 
This radiant burst of song, that comes 
From God's Garden, where only exquisite themes 
Are born, from the flowers of love, pure love! 
These from the song of a thousand songs. 

There will be a rifting of the clouds, 

That now hang low and gray. 

Life's rosy tints will come forth strong to stay 

And all thy burdens fall away. 

For a cavalcade of horsemen are to guard thy 

life 
Until its last, long drawn-out day. 
They are fair and gay of attire, 
And all come of princely sires. 
They will bear thy life out into the world, and 

thee, 
The position to which thou hast always aspired. 
Soon, ah soon, the Glorious Sun, 
Will burst through thy dark, dark night, 
141 



And thou shalt stand forth in its radiant light, 
A figure bold, strong, and ever ready for the 
right. 

Come, honey, come, be bright! 

My soul shall watch o'er thee 

Through the long, dark night. 

And when the morn shall dawn so fair and 

bright, 
We shall wander forth to a day of delight. 
Hand in hand, heart to heart, 
My steps shall lead thee to a dell of glorious 

art, 
Woven by the fairies of night ; 
Just for thee and me, my heart's delight, 
Come, honey, do be bright! 

This to thee on thy day of birth. 
Henceforth may thy life be one of mirth; 
Till thou shalt enter thy new birth, 
To dwell with thy God, far above this earth. 

Sweets to thee on this, thy day of birth. 
May all thy forces join in one grand song, 
So that on its rhythm thou mayest be carried 

along, 
Till thy life flow out into their song. 

Here is to thy health ! 

To thy wealth, and peace, 
All thy days long! 
142 



There is a plot to undermine the world. 
The Roman Catholic Church will rise in might 
And down will go all our most precious lights. 
Felled by a relentless hand, and followed 
By an enormous band, who will crush everything 
In its way. Caring not, till they stand, 
Flushed with victory, in every part of the land. 
Then they will sing a Te Deum, and reign, 
Victors until they are attacked by another band, 
Led by a general who knows how to command. 
Then will ensue a long, long fight, 
To extend through years, until the Roman 

Catholic Church 
Takes its flight. For this general, 
Once he takes command, never ceases 
Until they yield to his demands. 

What can heal like love ? 
What can make the sun to shine, 
Even though the rains do fall, 
Love, Love, Love! 

Every line that is written by Love 
For Love, with Love, 
Carries healing in every letter, 
Both to the soul and to the body, 
And shall live forever. 

Soon, ah soon, ah me ! Many people shall stand 
Upon a land, laughing, talking, riding, working, 
walking. 

143 



Sorrow and joy, hand in hand. When suddenly 

the land 
Will disappear from sight, taking with it the 

people, 
Ere they can make the slightest flight. 
Such is the fate of the land in a night. 
'Twixt morn and night, a river shall rise, like a 

wall. 
It will spring to the skies, to fall 
With a roar and a rush upon the land, 
And there will be a terrible hush, when not a 

soul 
Will be left, after its mad, mad rush. 
Electrical storms will burst in the very centre 

of the earth, 
And play with such intensity, that many will be 

seared 
And scarred, and the air will vibrate with 

prayers to God 
To spread his mercies abroad, and lift this ter- 
rible cloud 
That seems to have settled on all the land. 

More strength have I for the battle 
That is to be fought. 
I can see the victory in the distant sky. 
Beyond the smoke of battle flies a flag 
Held on high. It is to me an emblem, 
That my final victory is nigh. 



144 



The wind is blowing, blowing, blowing, 

A cloud of fine feathery flakes, 

Which will gradually settle into a wall 

Of white, hard snow, which the sun cannot melt 

Or the waters through it flow. 

This will happen in an Eastern land, 

Which has never known snow. 

The climate will change, and the weather 

Much colder grow, in this land, 

Which so far has been without snow. 

All that I hold dear is gone, 

On the wings of the wind. The things 

I have dreamed and longed for, 

Have flown another way. My plans 

And best laid schemes have vanished, 

As if a magic hand had touched with a fairy 

wand, 
So light I could not see or feel; 
But they have gone, and in their place 
New problems face me, bold and strong. 
No fine intent of mine can banish these problems 
Of thine, which thou hast put before mine eyes, 
And by my side; and I know that until I solve 

them, 

They will with me abide. 

Tossing in a fitful state, 

I wonder what is to be my fate? 

To plod and climb, to make a misstep, 

Then again to climb? 

145 



Is this to be my life, all the time ? 

Thy plodding and thy climbing 

Are at an end, for soon thy state will mend, 

And thou shalt have blessings without end. 

My good friend, I am on a lecture bent, 

Thou wilt not like its intent, 

And perhaps thy soul will not relent. 

But I shall give thee no peace of mind, 

Until thou hast taken the time 

To put thy affairs as I would mine. 

Here's to your health, to your wealth, 

Your peace of mind ; and may you answer my 

call, 
To become one of our kind. 



A war is rushing, on at an alarming pace. 
There is going to be a wholesale killing some- 
where. 

Across a sea of trouble spans a bridge 

Very narrow, and much traveled. It were well 

To have it widened, for soon, ah soon, 

An army will attempt the crossing, 

Then will follow dire disaster, death, and much 

woe, 
And the sea of trouble will o'erflow. 
Not a trace of the bridge will be left below 
In the seething waters of trouble and woe. 



146 



A flying machine I see in the air, 

And suddenly it turns and comes down with a 

crash 
And its occupants, to the number of four, 
Shall be no more. 

Dost thou know the power of love, 

Dost thou know the power of hate? 

Thou hast been much in its embrace, of late. 

Has it cleared thy sight? Has it sharpened 

Thy sense of God and his might? 

If so, thou hast gained a power for life. 

If not, thou shalt still dwell in strife. 

I see a tiny child, toddling o'er my way. 

He lays a flower in my hand, 

And his eyes they seem to say, 

" I am come to lead thee to a higher way." 

Dare I trust this tiny toddler to lead my way? 

Then I see a dove of purest white, 

That by his side doth stay; and I know 

He is just a little angel 

That God hath set upon my way. 

A Knight of the Way, and by thee he shall stay, 
Until a name thou hast gained in the world of 

play. 
He loves thee right well, but his name he will not 

tell. 



H7 



I have such a wild longing to fly 
Far o'er the mountain tops, 
There to rest till my soul shall cry " Away." 
Then back to my nest I shall go, 
And very much shall I appreciate 
The treasures that from which I once did fly 
To a wider home in the sky ! 

Oh my darling, smile! And throw dull care 

away. 
Be thou bright and happy, happy as the day. 
Dream only of thy pleasure, in the gayest way 
In which my love shall guide thee. 
Crush this sordid thought from out thy soul, 
And dream thou only of thy final goal, 
Which is one of wealth, honor and fame, 
In which thou shalt bear a very high name. 

Haste thee, for thy time is short. 
Put all thine affairs as thou ought. 
Draw thy strands together 
And weld them into a fine wide chain 
That will not bend or sever. 



On the deck of a steamer coming rapidly toward 

the shore, 
Is a man of lordly mien. He towers high as 

this world calls wealth. 
To thee he brings a message, that on the other 

side 



148 



There is an opportunity, oh so wide, for thy 

business to extend, 
Aye, even to the world's end. He will talk with 

thee, 
And with thy friends, and a new hope shall 

spring alive. 
Thou wilt not be bound by any cord. 

The wind and the rain, they gather in force 

And break with a might. Everything goes be- 
fore, 

Even as a feather is wafted from shore to shore. 

From whence cometh the force that drives it on 
its course? 

Dost thou know? Study thy life from day to 
day, 

And soon thou shalt discover the force of all 
things, 

And thou wilt be able to drag it from under 
cover. 

Then thou shalt be called a great discoverer. 

Be thou not discouraged 

If thou fly very high or very low ; 

For always close to thy God thou shalt go. 

I stand and clasp my hands in hushed fear. 

What is this deadening noise I hear? 

A mighty rock, the ocean's size 

Has fallen from the skies, and struck the earth 

Fair in its midst, 

149 



Forming a new foundation for another world, 
In place of the wreck which around it lies. 

I wonder what could hold him? 
Never a country, never a city; 
Never a woman, nor one plan of life. 
He must always be up and doing, 
In the midst of the strife. 



Such a world to grasp and conquer, 

Such a field to wander far ; such a river 

So wide and clear, upon which I my bark shall 

steer, 
Safe to a port of rest and love, 
Where all my desires shall be realized. 
There I shall stand and hold my prize, 
Which comes of the power to see my God in 

the skies. 



Oh my love, daily do I dream of thee. 
At night my soul wanders out through the woods, 
Calling, calling for thee. 
But alas, thy face I cannot see. 
Oh my love, when shall I rest with thee? 
To be one with thy form so fair, 
To draw thy life and mine 
In one great glorious bond of love 
And harmony divine. For thou, my love, 
Thou art mine ! 



150 



A chill, as of death, is creeping o'er my body. 
My soul starts; it knows not what to fear, 
But the chill and the hush make it go with a 

rush, 
And alas, my poor body is all that lies here. 
I am hovering over it in wonder. Was this my 

earthly home? 
It shows the signs of many cares and sorrows. 
It was a heavy burdensome thing, but still I cling, 
Loath to leave it, lying there so cold, 
And alas, so alone. 

mighty ancient Rome, would that I could 

rule thee now! 

1 would place upon thy head a crown of jewels 
Rare and fine, and thy streets would flow with 

wine. 
Oh my Rome, Rome, would that I had stood by 

my throne; 
But the gods played me false, and when I had 

conquered 
And stood on high, they gathered me up to the 

skies ; 
From where I have watched thy progress with 

untiring eye. 
Thy doom that is to come, I cannot avert. 
Thou wilt not be guided by my whispered com- 
mands 
To leave other lands and cling to thine own. 
Thou desirest to spread. Dost thou not know 

it means 

I5i 



Thy death? Oh Rome, Rome, could I but save 
thee now ! 

If I entreat, wilt thou not listen ? 

If I beg and implore, remember it is thy Caesar 

Who founded thee legions o'er. Oh Rome, 
Rome, 

List to my voice. It is one of love, and I im- 
plore, 

Turn from thy present plan, to conquer the 
world. 

Thou wilt remember this when thou art no more. 
Oh Rome, Rome, Rome. 

Down, my lady, down thou must go. 

It is thine Octavius that tells thee so. 

Down, my lady, down. Beware, 

For thou hast foes that would crush thee so. 

I by thy side will stay, 

And my sword shall be raised at the last streak 

of day. 
For at night I must watch thy way. 
It is not safe for thee to travel in the dark, 
But thou must be up, and away with the lark 
To rest again, ere it is dark. 
I have routed a foe that would have this day 

stung 
And pierced thy heart with many a dart. 
My love and my sword shall attend thy way. 
This from thy knight of the Laurel Wreath, 
And one of bay! 



152 



Merry laughter greets my ears, 

Sparkling sunshine in which there is no trace of 

tears. 
Birds of sweetest song, carrying their notes of 

beauty 
All along. In a garden of beauty untold. 
This is where thou, my love, must unfold. 

Little footsteps marching on, 

Little hands groping in the dark, 

Little hearts throbbing with a world of wonder 

At the sights they see, 

Oh how large the garden seems to be. 

Shadowy corners are worlds to explore, 

But once they are out on the great highway, 

Their dreams are o'er, 

And the garden shrinks until it is no more. 

At the eventide there will flow to thee 

On the crest of a wave, 

A tiny pearl of thought. 

It will increase in value as the years roll on. 

Later, ah much later, 

A fine harvest from this tiny thought 

Thou shalt reap. 

I am in a maze. I know that one straight path 
Will lead me clear ; but as yet it does not appear. 
One turn and I am free. But Oh, which way 

Shall that turn be ! 

153 



A storm is coming with sudden swiftness 

That will bend and break the strongest trees. 

Travel not in crafts that are frail, 

And watch thee well for the first signs of hail. 

Then take thy way to a sheltered spot, 

Or thou wilt not live another day, 

This from thy knight of the way, 

With the laurel wreath, and one of bay. 

There will come a time, if I do my duty other- 
wise, 
The lights will always stay; if I obey 
The higher laws, and put thoughts of self away, 
The world will follow and by me stay. 
For pure unselfishness is always rewarded this 
way. 

To the West, to the West, to the West, 

Fly my thoughts so free. 

There on the wings of the wind, 

Are marvelous things to see, 

In the far wild West of liberty. 

There thy plans will mold and grow, 

Not shut in by a mountain, no, oh no! 

But free and wild, in the far, far West, 

There thou shalt accomplish thy very best. 

I shall take thee in mine arms 
And lull thee off to rest, 
With thy head pillowed on my breast. 
I shall croon sweet songs of love to thee, 
154 



So that in thy dreams thou shalt see, 
Only love and what it brings to thee, 
Sweetheart mine, from o'er the sea. 

Wiggle waggle, wiggle waggle, goes the bobbin- 

ette 
Making lace, the finest yet. 
Steer thy ships on the plan of the bobbinette, 
Wiggle waggle, wiggle waggle, in and out 
Goes the shuttle, all to a count. 
Thus are the finest laces made by the most 

simple process out. 

Floating, floating, on the waves of blue, 

Is a ship that is coming straight to you. 

It brings a message from one who is tried and 

true, 
And that message is only for you. 
Floating, ever floating on the waves of blue, 
Again that ship will come unto you. 
She is a good ship that is staunch and true; 
And some day later she will bear you 
To the Elysian Fields of blue, and from there 
You will be able to send messages 
To others, that are tried and true. 
Once in your life did this ship come unto you, 
And thrice is all she is permitted to do. 
So watch for your two messages of blue, 

Both tried and true ! 



■55 



Thou darling of my heart, how I love thee in 

every part. 
Thy soul is so divine, it shines far into this world 

of mine, 
With a light so soft and sweet, that all great 

souls are drawn, 

And do it greet! 

The sun is shining and the stars have gone to 

rest. 
Into thy life this day, a sorrow will wend its 

way; 
But thou must remember thy laughing song, 
And the sting of the sorrow will be withdrawn. 

On the wings of the wild wind's storm 
Comes a message of import fine. 
Thy store closets will soon o'erflow with wine. 
And with milk and honey thou shalt be blessed, 
In the coming months of the great unrest. 

Jumble, jumble, jumble, so fast the thoughts do 

fly 
I can scarcely with them vie. 
They roll and tumble, and fly up high, 
O my, O my, I wonder why? 

I could write all night, 

The lights are burning bright, 

They have been so lovingly tended 

All this day. 

156 



I see a dream city o'er the way. 

It beckons me so, I fear I cannot stay, 

But to that dream city I must away. 

Castles in dreams thou hast builded 

And rudely shattered will they be, 

When the fruits of thy labors thou shalt see 

Slowly drawn from out thy hands 

By those whom thou hast trusted, 

And to whom thou hast always yielded their 

demands. 
Thy soul will amazed be, when the Book of 

Life 
Thou canst see, and read the entries 
That have been made for thee. 
There recorded thou wilt find, the heart-beats 
Of those whom thou hadst thought were fine. 
Then thy soul will cry 

"Why, oh why was I so blind?" 

The pendulum is swinging very slowly, 
The spring has almost run its length. 
The hands will stop at nine, 
For that is the appointed time. 

I am so sleepy and so tired, 
Otherwise I would with thee stay, 
To give thee finest sights 

Which thou couldst write of in thine own way. 
But alas, my darling child, I cannot stay. 
I am so sleepy and so tired, I must away. 
157 



Sparkling are the caves far beneath the ocean 
bed, 

And cold beyond anything to compare. 

Some day they will be thrown upon the top- 
most mountain 

Now on the land; and then will such treasures 

Come to light, as have never been heard of, 

Or seen, by" those of finest sight. 

A man is sitting, with head bowed low, 

Deeply thinking, seeing nothing, 

Thinking of what, only God knows. 

He hears strange vibrations. 

What do they mean? Are they for him, 

Or is he in a dream, to awake 

To the same old scheme of life, 

In which there are no dreams. 

To-night thou shalt be told a tale most fair, 
Thou shalt be taken high in the air. 
The scenes thou shalt visit will stay forever 
By thy sight, for God himself thou shalt see 

On His throne of white. 

Bleak is the weather and dull the skies, 

But my spirits do rise and rise. 

With the force of a whirlwind they seek the 

skies 
To revel and dance amid the ever-glowing beauty 
Of the Garden of Rest, with its fountains 
Of purest waters, spraying forth to the air. 

158 



With its luscious fruits, and God's love every- 
where. 



Out of the depths my soul hath cried 

And I am to be freed ere another sun rise. 

My soul will take its flight 

To rest in peace forevermore, 

And with my forefathers shall I abide. 

Cheer, cheer, thy skies are not all drear, 
There -is a big expanse of blue, 
Where the sun shines ever true, 
And only a small gray cloud 

Now hides it from you! 

His spirit and his soul were fine, 

But his body was weak to the influences of wine. 

His morals were wide, but his heart was true, 
And ever a kind deed he tried to do. 



These messages are flashed on the air, 
And if thou art finely attuned, 

Thou shalt with them share. 



Free, free, free ! Free to wander at my will, 
To rest, to climb, to love the very ground 
Upon which I dwell, free, free, free. 
I want to shout it from the housetops, 

159 



I want to sing it forth. I want to whisper it 
So softly, and croon it as one would a lullaby, 

Free, free, free! 

Such an insight into life, the bud of the rose, 
The heart of the pearl, and to the very pivot 
On which rests this great world of love and 
strife. 



In the dimming light, all things assume a softer 

might. 
Small objects loom up bright, and mountains fade 

away, 
Far out of sight. So as the years roll on, 
Our larger troubles take their flight, 
And we are enabled to enjoy, what has always 

been for us 
The smaller things of life; but in reality 

They are our life. 

Laugh in the morning when the sun doth rise, 
Laugh at noon when it is high in the skies. 
Laugh at night when the sun has set 
And the moon and stars have gone to rest. 
Then thou must laugh thy best. 

The sun will shine and the clouds all smile 
When thou dost walk with thy lover awhile. 



160 



Sweetheart, darling soul, 

What of the tales I have been told? 

They tell me thou art great 

And of the beautiful things thou dost unfold. 

I pray you send me a line, 

That will tell me your soul rhymes with mine, 

O my darling sweetheart, thou art mine! 

Life will soon hold dear to thee ; 
Into another's life thou shalt be, 
And he will walk with thee, 
In all love and purity ! 

Thou hast been patient long 

And too much unobtrusiveness and patience 

Serve thee not always too well. 

It were better if thou didst impress thy strength 

In forceful vein, for minds are dull 

To grasp the intent to which thou might be 

driven 
If they ne'er consent to place thee 
Where thou shouldst be, only a just reward 
For thy work which thou hast given so free. 

i 

Into a new life thou soon shalt merge 

Thy talents, one and all, 

Thou shalt walk with others of thy sect and art. 

And thou shalt be the highest of them all. 

Somebody? Why not thou? 

Dost not think thou hast earned thy space 

161 



In the ranks of those who have made by their 

talents 
A place full of fame, and a name? 

There once was a man of so short a sight 
That to all the beauty and sweetness 
Of character in his wife, he turned his head 
And looked only to the strife; and by so doing 
He missed what might have been an ideal life. 

Cultivate the beauty and admiration of one 

thing. 
There is as much enjoyment to be absorbed 
From one rose, as from a million. 
As much beauty to be admired, in fact in 

quantity 
We lose sight of each exquisite leaf, 

And the unfolding thereof. 

Cultivate a calm restful spirit, 
All of the exquisite works of art, 
All strong nations have been the result 
Of long continued, quiet, calm endeavor. 
All fine, beautiful characters 
Are moulded by years of kind, quiet loving 
deeds. 



Calm and stately be thy walk 

Through the sun and shadow light of life. 



162 



Calm and quiet thy endeavor, peaceful thy life. 
That at last it may merge and flow out 
Into the golden river of God's light! 

Time flieth, the wind sigheth, 

And only God knows how my heart crieth. 

A jig, a jig jig, goes a little high cart. 

It carries the mail to many a waiting heart, 

But to none more beautiful of face and form 

Than Miss Polly Cathcart. 

Such a merry, dancing little elf, 

With a saucy little nose, and a dimple each side, 

For what, goodness knows — for surely 

She is pretty enough without these extra throws 

Of Cupid's flinging darts. 

She needs not any of his arts, 

For her eyes sink deep in the manly hearts 

That come within their reach. 

This is Miss Polly Cathcart. 

Her home is a manor of noble old parts, 

With its acres far and wide. 

And she is the only darling of her proud old 

father's heart, 
Is this Miss Polly Cathcart. 
But she watches with just as eager eyes, 
For the jig-a-jig cart, as the little maid 
Who peeps out of the kitchen garden part 
For this is the time of the year, when the mail 
Is apt to bring 'most any amount of news and 

good cheer. 

163 



At last the jig-a-jig cart arrives, 

With a bag of mail that makes Miss Polly gasp 

with surprise. 
The size and shape are new to her eyes. 
O how her heart bobs up and down. 
But alas her patience will be tried, 
For her father has not yet returned from his 

ride; 
And no hand but his ever unlocks the bag, that 

now 
Miss Polly is sure contains a great big surprise. 
" Bob White," " Bob White," greets her ears 
From out the woods, and Miss Polly without 

much more thought 
To the bag of mail, flies straight to the woods 
From out which came the call of the quail. 
But not a sight of Tom does she see, the tor- 
menting Tom 
That always keeps her on the qui vive. 
But at last she spies his head, just the other side 
Of a great big tree — and with a cry, she darts 

at Tom 
And lost is he! But soon it is Tom's turn 
And once he has her, she'll not soon be free. 
Polly and Tom are lovers free, only in the woods 
Where her father cannot see; for he does not 

set Master Tom 
As of high enough degree, for Miss Polly Cath- 

cart 
Of Cathcart Manor, and her estates so free. 



164 



Peace, little sister, 
To thy troubled heart. 
The way, I know, 

Looks dark. 



But just a little farther on, 
There is a turn, 
Which will delight your eyes, 
And heart. 



The views- of all people will expand in time 
And they will take a broader view 

Across this horizon of thine. 



Success is measured only by ourselves. 



The most graceful thing in motion is a boat 
of beautiful structure. 



Take time! 
Have no haste 

With any earthly thing! 

The falling snow is not more pure 
than the light 
which will shortly flood 
the land, 
Cleansing all the eternal 
strife. 

165 



Kind deeds bring one to the heart of God. 

My soul is filled with the hills of everlasting 
love. 

What is it that gives color to our lives? The 
beauty of our friendships. 

Child, child, what are you doing? 

You are so quiet, I fear for something. 

Mischief, mischief, dear little soul, 

It is all alike to you. 

Busy little hands, and still busier little feet. 

Sleep, gently sleep, 
Close thy weary eyes 
And I will lull thee 
To a couch amid the skies. 

O saucy little pansies, with your darling grace 
And such a radiance of color, 
As you gradually unfold such a richness all 
your own. 

O my soul, break all thy fetters. 
Stand out clear and true, 
Let not any earthly cloud 

Roll before thy view. 



166 



Think you I am come to make you sad? 
No, my love, but to show you all the beauties 

Of the unseen. 



Kindness is the outward reflection 
Of the beauty of one's soul. 

Thou must guard thyself from the rush of 

thought 
That will come like a mighty river 
Which has been pent and suddenly loosened. 
It will bound, and roar and roll 
Like unto the ocean's sound. 
It will eddy, and circle and swirl 
And try to carry thee on, and on, 
To be either crushed by the way, 
Or thrown into its final goal — 
And there thou wouldst be lost, 
For the waves are deep, dark and cruel! 

Pure thy thoughts must be, 

If thou wouldst walk with God, 
And God with thee! 

Praise the Lord my soul, sing forth thy praise 
For his mercies, and care of thee, all thy days. 
Thy soul must come in touch with some pure 

thought 
As a relief from all this dragging downward 

trend 

167 



That now surrounds thee in numbers without 
end. 

Come and let us wander forth 

To gather of the telling Spring, 

A place in which to give of all our songs. 

For we are filled with a fear and dread 

To give free vent, and so all our best songs 

Are inward pent ! 

Softly, swiftly passes the day, 

Darkening, the night comes on, 

But my way is always as light as the day, 

For in it God doth always stay. 

Give me a brave true heart, 
Give me a soul that always smiles, 
Even though the skies be wrought 
With streaks of dark, blue thought. 

Thy spirit is to be ladened 
With the breath of the North Wind ; 
Chilled for a time — but later 
Will come all the soft azure 
Of the sunny, southern clime! 

How beautiful, how exquisite, how glorious 
Are thy ways, O thou highest theme of love! 
How pure are thy paths that lead to the divine 
realms above. 

168 



And yet so unpretentious that the smallest 

thought 
Of pure love, will lead into the very heart 

Of the realms above ! 



Beatific is thy love; thy soul is laden 

With the pearls of love. And thy heart dost 

sing 
With all the angels of God above! 

Trust in thy God, and put forth only songs of 

love. 
They will carry thee to Him, and Heaven above. 

Deny not thy soul any gleam of light, 
No matter where it may radiate from. 

Power, what is power? The sense of seeing 

And hearing a little clearer 

Than those with whom we are surrounded. 



We seldom find just the condition we have been 

striving for. 
It is either a little better or very much below 

our standard. 



Nirvana, thou the Mecca of my hopes, 
I found I had not conquered all my foes. 
When thy shores I reached, 

169 



My fight was only just begun, and continued 

Until I gained the Heavenly One. 

There I found my highest hopes 

And dwelt in love divine, 

Which was a far finer, wider, higher love than 

mine. 
And taught me many wider schemes of life 
All among the busy throng. 
There was no need of drawing far apart 
To live the higher thoughts, 
For naught but love did count 
And the smallest deed of kindness wrought 
Stood for more than the prayers, fasting, 

And the living apart 

When we proclaim with lordly mien 
That we can plan our lives, 
Fate very quietly steps out, 
And sweeps them all aside. 

Thy heart will reveal to thee many mysteries, 
Thine eyes will see strange sights, 
Thy God will lead thee to His highest, brightest 
light. 

In the moon and starlight, 

When the earth is bathed in a mystic glow, 

Then thou wilt sail thy bark 

Far out on the ocean of woe. 

But never fear, for thy God will with thee go. 

170 



Didst thou dream thou wast on the waters 
In a pearly shell, filled with lotus flowers, 
And didst thou dream thou had sailed far away, 
And came upon an island in a gorgeous realm? 
Here with only thy pearly shell, 
And the few lotus flowers left from the waters' 

wild swell? 
And didst thou dream that on this island 
Of beautiful sheen, thou didst find a treasure 
That would forever to thee cling? 

My best loved light, disturb not thy heart 

With all this sad, sad flight, 

Into realms of grief that are gone, 

And far, far out of sight! 

All my soul is wrapped in a haze of golden light 
So that I cannot see the dark, dark night. 

I see a garden, O, so fair. 

It is filled with flowers fine and rare. 

The walks, so cool and shaded, 

Lead one everywhere, 

Through this garden, that is O, so fair. 

There is a fountain that throws off 

Such exquisite lights, 

From the waters it sprays in the air. 

In this garden that is O, so fair. 

I shall walk in that garden some day, 

And by my side a maiden tall and fair, 

171 



Who has spun out her life's work above 
In that garden that is O, so fair. 

Love, love, will carry thee along, 

And croon thee a song, 

To warm thy heart, all the way along. 

Two lovers once plotted to overthrow a throne, 
But alack, alas, the devil always claims his own. 

O'er the deep blue waters wide 

Comes a message that I shall gather 

At the morning tide. 

It will bring me news of a claim of gold 

That has lain long undisturbed; 

And I shall rejoice that at last, 

I can with my love abide, 

My love of the waters, deep and wide. 

My staff I leave with thee, 
That with it thou mayest gain 
A firm, firm footing on the plane 
Which thou shortly shall attain. 
'Tis a staff of gold, and I freely 
Give it to thee. Later thou canst return it 
When thou hast gained, and can take thy stand, 

Alone and free ! 

The Ancient Three are abroad on a journey 
to-night 

172 



That will fill with wonder all the eyes within its 

sight. 
They would dearly love to come to thee, 
But my Angel, it is for thee, that they are abroad 
On their journey, these Ancient Three ! 

I am lost in a blue-gray mist 

Out on the moors so wild. 

I dare not step, I dare not move, 

And I my vigil must keep 

Till a light draws through this blue-gray mist. 

Then I shall see my way right clear, 

With no danger of falling down a precipice 

So sheer, or dashing my foot against a rock, 

So with patience I will stand, 

Until I can see the fair, glorious land 

That lies beyond the moors so wild. 

Baby darling, sweetheart, pet, 
Thou art mine, and I am thine, 

1 ' - . As yet ! 

Rest thy heart in mine. 

Thy strength will come into full play. 

Thou shalt be enabled to walk 

In the full light of day! 

O the hours of dreariness and pain! 
O the tortures of my life again ! 
Would that I were in a land far withdrawn 
From all that now for me remains. 
173 



Sunshine, O how charming are thy tracings 
As thou fall between the lines. 
Lines of sorrow that are forever in our way, 
Trying to hide from us thy golden sunshine 
That forever is at play. 

White Rose, thou dearest and best of guides, 
Take this, my offering to thee, in thy home 
In the skies. May thy work be blest, 
And thy soul finally be at rest. 

Come, let us be gone, and not delay, 
We must be ready to catch the first faint echo 
Of springtime, as she starts on her northward 
way. 

Thou didst bring thine own power into play, 
Thou didst show thyself not made of pure clay. 
Thou didst stand forth absolutely free, 
And put forth the thoughts that came to thee. 

I never knew how great thy force, 

I never realized thy truth. 

If only all great souls were not so modest 

And kept so far from view 

We might have more examples 

To lead us to the truth. 

I wonder if in all the clime 
I shall find a soul divine. 
174 



One with whom I can define 
All this love of heart of mine. 

O my soul, to rest with one in perfect harmony 
So that each thought would be but a gentle in- 
termingling 
Of vibrations from soul to soul. 

Thy soul shall be blest 
With all the songs 
Put forth by the angels, 
As they fly along. 

Sun of my soul, come and dwell with me. 

Leave me not in darkness drear. 

Thy beams I fain would see. 

O thou Sun of mine, so dear ! 

Drear my life, if thou comest not to me. 

Dost thou hear my call to thee? 

My Angel of Light, my star so bright, 

Shed thy beams upon me. 

Lull me in thine arms, soothe my cares away, 

For they are but tests, sent to try me 

On my homeward journeying way. 

And if I have thy brightness, to make clear 

My way, I shall come out bold and strong 

In the full light of God's day. 

Sing, dance and play. 
Right on thy way 

175 



And shortly thou wilt reach 

Thy Mecca, that thou hast longed for, 

All thy days! 

To thee be all honor, glory and fame! 

Love will follow thy name; 

And inscribe itself to thy highest aims. 

There is a little snow fairy in the air 

And soon she will dance with glee 

And all the bells ring out so merrily 

And then will come her followers 

By the millions three, and O my, how cold we'll 

be. 
All because of this naughty little snow fairy 
Who thought she'd have a dance so free. 

Meadow lark, meadow lark, sing of thy song 

So pure and free, bright and early in the morn, 

When the dew is on the tree, 

Meadow lark, meadow lark, sing and tell me 

In thy song, if I shall be able to sing 

With half thy sweetness, to the world ere long. 

O meadow lark, meadow lark! 

Tell me what dost thou think of my song? 

Oft the clouds of fleecy whiteness 
Draw my thoughts above. 
Soon we shall be beyond those clouds 
And grasp the very purest of God's thoughts. 
176 



Softly falls the snow, o'er the ground both high 

and low, 
Covering all to a depth that I fear will bring 

woe. 
Many unfortunate souls will take their last sleep 
In the snow. It will come so softly like the leaf 

of a rose 
That people will not realize the might with 

which it blows, 
And slowly the wind will increase, bringing 

clouds and clouds 
Of snow, white as fleece, that will settle 
As firm as a rock, and the wind will increase, 
Bringing rain and sleet : then more snow will 

follow 
Till the earth will be covered to a depth of eight 

or ten feet. 

Whisper soft and low, 
Sweetest songs the wind doth blow. 
Dost thou hear them telling thee 
All the tales of land and sea? 
How this part of the world will sink 
Into the ocean bed some day, 
And nought will be left but the rolling waves 
Where now stands the city with its many ways. 
Thou must listen, for they whisper very softly 
Of these things that are to be! 



177 



Real battles are easily fought and won. 

Tis the creeping, sneaking, snarling, lying forces 

That take the heart out of one! 

In time there will be vast changes 

Over the land and sea. But the God who 

reigns 
Will direct thee to where thou shouldst be. 
So put all thy fear aside and follow thy heavenly 

guide. 
Thy way will be made very clear to thee. 
It will be useless to put forth thy prophecies 
For the world is so blind, it would not see, much 

less listen to thee; but thou 
Who hast served thy God so well, will be warned 

In time to flee. 

Peace will follow the storm, and victory, the 

fight, 
So carry thou thy head high, and thy heart 

light, 
No matter how black the night. My right hand 

I give thee 
In all fellowship and love ; and the best thoughts 
I can send from above, shall follow thee all thy 

life. 

Cupid sat on a fence, after a cold winter's 

storm 
And he shivered and shook, with no one to keep 

him warm. 

i 7 8 



O my, how cold was he; but ah, he straightened 

and smiled, 
For just around a turn of the road, 
He heard sleigh-bells, and then some bright 

merry laughter 
And he knew that Cupid was the one they were 

after. 



I will give thee a rhyme, if thou hast the patience 
And time! Oh my dear, how I do love to 

rhyme ! 
Especially to a soul such as thine. 
It is so filled with God, and his love divine. 
But thou art still waiting for thy rhyme! 

Once upon a time there was a man 
Who had not finished his life's span. 
He was sent from the earth, with a shot 
From the hand of a man, who thought he was 

deep 
In a plot, to rid the world of a despotic lot. 
It was a sad fate for the man who was shot, 
For he had God only in his heart, 
And had labored for all so well. 
But such was his fate, and who can tell 
That his soul was not transported 
Immediately to the highest Heaven to dwell. 



My heart I bring to you, 
It is ever true! 

179 



Love lies in this heart for you ! 

Sunberry, thou shalt be 

A treasure of joy to those 

Who partake of thee. 

Thy flavor is luscious, 

Sweet and mild, 

Thou beautiful sunberry, by the sea. 

There is a glint of gold, where'er my eyes do 

turn. 
No matter how dark the night, or bright the 

day, 
This streak of gold is forever in my way. 



Light gleams from within 
Darkness comes from without. 



Under the maplewood tree stands a figure bold 

and free, 
With head held high, and heart so light, 
That the very gleam of his eye 
Brings sunshine to the passer-by. 

I see an ocean and a broad expanse of sand. 
It looks like a desert land. A solitary man 
Is sitting on the sand, dreaming wild dreams 
of thee. 



180 



Like a rushing river, flows my love. 

Oh my beauteous love, how I long for thee ! 

And the time when we shall be 

Happy in our love, far across the sea! 

Where we can walk or work, 

With none to say, " Thou shall, and will." 

No cares for us, of the everyday life, 

No thought of the morrow and its strife. 

Oh my love, my life, how much longer 

Have I to wait, for my heart's delight? 

Not long? Do I hear thee aright? 

And dost thou know, my angel bright? 

My darling of sweetest light? 

Hast God given thee thy message, 

To gladden my heart, Oh my darling, 

It is always thine art, to bring sunshine 

And love for my part. So I shall patiently wait 

Till we meet once more, and then never again 

Do we part, till our life is o'er, and we shall join 

Our God, on his everlasting shore! 

Beauty of thought, and power divine, 
Spreads itself o'er this world of mine. 

In this world nothings counts but show. 
Worth, if hidden under a modest mien, 
Is passed by, for the lesser qualities 
Flaunted forth in glowing colors. 

Mighty deeds of charity, put forth 
With much blowing of brass bands, count. 
181 



But the simple, kindly acts given forth 
Each day, at every opportunity, 
Very quietly, bring seldom even thanks 
From the recipient. 

Speak thou thy heart, not thy head! 

Pearls of beauteous thought are coming to thee, 
And a dear little soul, that will bring thee com- 
fort 
And joy of the whole. Lose not thy brightness 
And cheer, for the dear little soul is right here. 

In thy higher walk of life 

Thou shalt see the power of the Holy Three. 

And then thou wilt realize, 

What they do for thee! 

Coming o'er the water, dancing gay and free, 
Are some fairies, bringing tales of wonder 
Just for thee. Darling little fairies of the sea. 
In their pearly boats, they will later 
Bring some fruits to thee, and a nectar 
Fit for the Gods to see. 
Drink thou deeply that thy soul may imbibe 
The dainty visions of the sea fairy tribe. 

O'er the woods and dells, ring the bells, 
That tell of the coming festive time, 

182 



For mistress Mary, is going to quit being con- 
trary 
And will marry her lover this time. 
So all is gay, and bright display will reign 
O'er the town. I pray, Mistress Mary, 
That you will never again be quite so contrary. 

Remember that each day 
Thou art creating a home 
For thy future habitation. 

The angels of night are coming 

To gather thee to rest, 

So I must away, to where there is no night 

But where all is brightest day. 

If I could take thy hand and guide thee 

To only soft, secluded spots; 

But alas, I am so helpless, 

I must yield to a higher sight, 

And with him deem all things aright. 

Sweetest pet, bow not thy head, 

I love thee same as ever. 

Thy soul is just as dear and just as clever. 

And if I were on this earth, 

I would ask thee to be mine forever! 

The pearly tints of morning light 
Are breaking through the dark, dark night. 
183 



Soon the soft rosy light, will herald 
The coming of the golden Sun so bright. 
And then the day will burst 
In all the splendor of its might ! 

Sunshine bright, sweetly, softly blooming 

flowers, 
An atmosphere ladened with the pearly tints of 

Spring. 
An ocean blue as the azure sky above, 
Forms a picture, where all at present 
Is full of peace and love. 
There I would take my way for a time 
And rest in the rosy tints of the clime. 
Till my heart was warmed, and my soul 
Fairly entwined in the soft sweet azure 
Of sea and woods combined. 

This to thee, thou highest soul 

In thy infinity. 

May thou guide other souls 

To see the world with thine eyes. 

Thou wilt hear of a death, right soon, 
That will bring thee much sorrow and gloom. 
Thou must gather thy forces, 
And make a brave stand for thine own. 
I would gather my threads all in, 
And fasten them firm and well. 
I would have in writing my interests, 
Or thou wilt not fare thee so well. 
184 



Sweeping, sweeping are the gales, 
O'er the land so free! 
And the comet's tail will make sad havoc 
Ere it leaves its present trail. 

Poppies I bring to thee, 
To lull, a sweet incense, 
So that thine eyes shall see 
All the languorous beauty 

Of the Orient! 

Success is but the achieving of a certain mark ! 

Success is measured by so many things. 
It can be applied to the smallest detail 
Or to the filling out of infinite schemes. 

Incense shall burn to thee, 

Thou flower of purity. 

Thou dearest, sweetest soul of light, 

I pray thee, give to me 

Of thy love, both day and night. 

That I may on its wings 

Fly to realms of eternal delight. 

Under the falling robe of night, 
Gleam the stars, bold and bright. 
So with all our lives. 
We are given a season of night, 

185 



To enable us to see our highest points 

Of light. For in the bright, beautiful sunlight 

The stars are entirely hid from sight. 

A dream dispelled, a hope shattered! 
O why does all this come, this everlasting strife 

Of Heaven and Hell! 

High-ho, high-ho, here we go, 

Right on the verge of another winter's snow. 

Thou must gather thy goods from afar 

For thou wilt have need of them all, 

And butter will be beyond par! 

And milk, thou wilt not find it 

Far on its way in the car! 

So lay in a stock of right good sort, 

That will keep thy heart warm for its part. 

Rose leaves flitting through the air, 

Covering all the ground with thy perfume rare. 

How I love the very sound of thy name, 

Roses, everywhere! 

Contentment is only experienced by those 
Utterly lacking in soul, for soul is ever looking 
Onward and upward, and cannot rest on any 
given plane. 

To all the world thy thoughts shall go, 
Sweetest messengers of love below. 
186 



They will charm the ear, and warm the heart, 
And bring to thee a part in the world of art. 

True friendship is milk of absolute purity; 
But it must not be subjected to a great intensity 
Of heat, or it will turn, and a daily renewal 

Is necessary! 

Daffodils, in all thy glowing yellow beauty, 
Thou dost bring a dainty, dancing elf 
Who gives happiness, health and wealth! 

Sweet Peas, in thy dainty, modest life, 
Thou dost carry to all, an inspiration 
To live above the everyday strife. 

Bachelor Buttons, thou godly little flowers, 
Thou dost bring hope, where reign the dark, dark 
powers. 

Orchids, thou stately blooms, 
Thou dost carry within thy looms 
Many threads to weave in colors gay, 
For the lives with whom thou dost abide, 
If only for a day! 

Tulips, thou hast a secret to tell, 
Sometimes thou hidest it well, 
And then again flauntest it, 

187 



So that all the world can tell! 
But love is hidden deep in the wells 
At times thou fain would keep 

And not even sell ! 



Shiver not, thou wilt have many messages 
Brought to thee, that will make thy heart bound 

with glee. 
Dear little stories of earth and sea, 
To capture the hearts that are waiting for thee. 

A dainty soul will come flying by, and thou 
Must be ready to take her inspirations while she 

is nigh. 
She pauses but an instant, and is off to others, 

to fly. 

Hollyhocks, thou bold clustered flowers, 
Flaunting thy gay colors to the wind and rain. 
Thou art sturdy messengers, bringing health for 

pain. 
My brave hollyhocks, thou art worthy of thy 

name. 



Roses, nestled in thy wealth of green, 
Thou art of every color and sheen. 
Give to us thy secret of beauty 
And daintiness fair; also thy charm 
That thou dost shower everywhere. 
Thou dost carry a message deep in thy heart, 
188 



Of comfort, joy and love, and to many a heart 
Hast thou brought a life-giving part. 
For thou art ever a stimulant of the heart, 
And bravely dost thou carry thy part, 
In this wide world of art! 

In the bright daylight, thou art safe, 

But when the night shadows fall, 

Thou must rest thy fate with thy God in all ! 

Popsy-Wopsy lived in Dumpling Lane 

And he ate apple dumplings till he had a pain. 

Oh my, how he groaned and cried: 

"If I ever eat another apple dumpling 

May I bust inside." But alas, right soon, 

He forgot his pain he had had, 

And ate some more dumplings, 

Which proved to be the last. 

For his wish came true, and he went up, 

With a great loud blast! 

Many fine truths thou hast inscribed, 

Many words of love for those 

Who will later walk in thy light. 

Many trite sayings of both day and night, 

Which the people will love 

As soon as thou bring them to their sight. 

In the light of coming events, I should say : 
Be thou careful of thy stores, 

189 



And make them immense. Thou wilt have need 
Of a goodly share, both for thee and thy friends, 

So my dear, beware ! 

A raging torrent rushes along, 

Leaving disaster and much woe. 

But this I know, thou wilt be left safe 

And secure, in thy home. 

A guard will be drawn around thy life 

To care and protect of thee from all strife. 

Thou wilt rest in peace, 

And later will come to thee a crown 

Full of jewels both fine and rare 

Which thou shalt wear for thy life's full share. 

I see a rosy line, stretching far and wide 
And on it some messages, which thou 
Shalt receive at the coming night tide. 

Song and gladness cannot be all thy lot in life ; 

Sorrow must have her flow. 

In order to enrich thy portion, 

When thou hast finished thy life below. 

I see a mighty torrent rushing o'er the land; 
A mighty wall of water break itself in bands 
That will literally encompass the land. 
Then a mighty tremor will begin from far be- 
low the rock, 
And gradually gain in strength and volume 
190 



Till it draws the earth apart. 

I would quit this part of the country, 

Away from the troubled sea, and the forces that 

are working 
To cast themselves from the ground under thee. 

Golden lights are forever surrounding thee. 
Thou must not allow thine eyes to be dimmed 
By the darkness beyond thee. 

Tiny threads of gold are woven 'neath the black- 
est night. 

Later, when the darkness parts, there will be 
shown 

A dazzling glory of lights and arts. 

Gleams the gold, far deep in the solid rock. 
The surface is not attractive, except to those 
Skilled in the art of reading the rocks. 

I knew a little old man who lived in a conchal 
shell, 

Down by the ocean's roll and swell. 

Oh my, what stories he had to tell, of deep sea 
wonders 

That were whispered to him in the shell, 

Of the beautiful mossy dells, surrounded by ex- 
quisite shells 

Where dwelt the mermaids, with their gold 



191 



And silver gowns, that sparkled in the moon- 
light, 

When they came to town. How they danced 

Upon the water's silvery crown, with a sway- 
ing and a rhythm 

That was music in the air, all around. 

How the little fairies from the woods 

Would come and join with them in song, weav- 
ing garlands 

Of flowers, with which their heads to adorn. 

Then with much laughter and play, these fairies 
and mermaids 

Would disappear with the first streak of day. 

I see a golden pear, just dangling in the air. 
It is not so very high, and thou couldst catch it 
If thou didst try. I would not haste thee, 
But rather mark thee well the time when thou 

thinkest 
It will fall; and then be thou there, 
Ready for thy share of the golden pear. 

The morrow's sun will set upon a victory won, 
And a new era for a life, will have begun. 
The narrow groves will fall aside, and the 
Soul will expand, in the glorious sunshine 
Of another land. Free from cares and from 

troubles, 
At rest; ah, I am so happy, when I see how 

that soul 

Will be blest ! 
192 



My heart is pierced by many a dart, 

But it adorns a page of finest art; 

For I am a part of an old fashioned valentine, 

That brought joy to a maiden's heart. 

And long has she treasured this fine piece of art, 

That I have adorned, with my blood-red heart. 

I fain would give thee some golden lines, 
That thou couldst carry in thy heart. 
To be forever a part of thy life, in thy sorrow, 
And in thy strife. In thy joy, good fortune and 

delight. 
Just some lines that would bring thee at once 
To realize, from thy God comes all thy life. 
He brings both joy, sorrow and strife. 

Thy God is thy life ! 

Sitting by the fireside, watching the logs 
Crackle and blaze, my thoughts ever turn 
To the days gone by. To all the bright, happy 

hours. 
The walk, the dance, the talk, 
And the singing of songs on a cold winter night, 
To the popping of corn, and the making of 

" Hearts' Delight " 
A confection I know all still like. 
And then before me come a few small sorrows 
And misunderstandings; the other girl with the 

golden curls 
(For his heart was easily swayed, this lover 



193 



Of the early days). How one was sure the 

heart would break, 
To wake in the morning, with a heavy sigh, 
And wish that one might die; but alas, a new 

dress, 
A small jewel, or even a box of candy, 
Would lessen the loss, and make one think 
The earth was not all dross. 
And what a smile these things bring to one, 
After they have faced the cares, joys and sor- 
rows of life, 
The bitter realities and strifes; but after all 
What is life but a repetition of joys, sorrows 
and strife. 

The world will shortly undergo 
A vast churning and turning, just so-so! 
Not at all in the way it should go, just so-so! 
A huge amount of wealth will be thrown up 
From below, because of the fires 
That are raging, just so-so! 
Rivers of gold, silver and copper will flow, 
And then times will be just so-so! 
This will occur in Nineteen Ten, 
In Nineteen Eleven it will end, 
This flow of wealth; then Oh my, 
Everything will be just so-so! 
Conceive if you can, how the people will rush 
To gather these rivers of wealth, 
But alas and alack, it will run through their 
hands, 

194 



For easy come, easy go, 

And things will be just so-so! 

Gardenia, thou cold, pure flower, 
Thou hast hidden in thy heart a wealth of per- 
fume, 
That brings pleasure of the finer senses of art. 
Thou art a healer of many a broken heart. 

Narcissus, thou sweet overpowering flower, 
Thou dost bring one to the gates of a dawning 

hour; 
To enter or not, at will. But thou 
Always dost bring one to where their finer 

senses 
May sway, and behold the clear life of perfect 

day. 

The pearly gates are open wide, 
So that thou mayest step inside, 
And gather of the flowers that grow so fair 
All along the paths that are everywhere. 
Such exquisite flowers of thought 
Are blooming in that garden, unsought. 
Dainty, pearly beams of light 
They would shed upon some soul, 
On the blackest night, if they 
Were only gathered to be strewn 
Among the tired, weary ones of earth. 
Canst thou not enter the gates 
And therein glean the thoughts? 
195 



Thy God hast given thee the heart! 
Why not put forth all thine arts ? 

Thou art blessed beyond thy wildest hopes, 

Thou hast climbed the steep ladder of fame, 

And wilt stand on the highest plane. 

A star for thy crown, God in thy heart, 

And all the world's love for thy part. 

Thou must not listen to the voice of the tempter 

Promising thee wealth untold, 

A fame, name and love, that is beyond thy claim. 

Always remember thou wilt have only thy share ; 

And that will be according to the way 

Thou hast builded, all thy days. 

Each second, minute and hour counts, 

The good and the evil are weighed 

One against the other. Watch thee the scales, 

That thy balance may be all for good. 

Seated on a rock, gazing out to sea, 
Is a woman whose heart is breaking for thee. 
Canst thou not send her one word of cheer, 
And just a small token, to show that thy love 
She need not fear? Remember this on the mor- 
row's dawn 
And send her a word that will reach her before 

long. 
Then her heart will be joyful and she'll sing 

her song 
Of beauty and sweetness, all the day long. 



196 



Ever upward thine eyes must be, 

Ever onward thy walk must go. 

Thou canst not pause to look back 

On thy path, for the flowers that thou must 

pluck 
Lie high hidden in the rocks above. 
So onward and upward thy journey must go 
With a heart full of love, 
And a spirit that will brave any blow, 
From the rocks above, or the earth below. 

Scattered all along, are the links 

Of a great grand song. 

Thou must gather them one by one, 

To rivet each link, and then 

To swell the song, so that to it 

The world may move along. 

My mind is cleared of its haze. 

I now can see it has been a mist 

Of unreal rays, that have spread 

And encircled my ways. 

So that where'er I turned, 

I did but encounter a dark high wall. 

Now the sunlight is with me again 

And all things resume their golden reign. 

God's wisdom leads us far 
From where we most desire to be. 
Later we shall see 

197 



How His plans all work out 
For our greatest good to be. 

Tiny marks each thought doth make. 
Never can they be effaced. 
A thought flings itself upon the world 
To be absorbed by the immense whole. 

Striving ever striving, to be first 

In might and rank; but we do realize 

That finally, all that counts 

Has nought to do with might and rank. 

Mounting ever on high, 

I glean the thoughts of purity and love. 

Fine, elusive schemes of life, 

The simple working out 

Of what we call the deeper mysteries, 

They are so simple to my eyes. 

Mounting high on wings of love 
I soar to unknown realms above. 
Oh that I could take thee with me, 
To refresh thine eyes 
With the calm, sweet splendor 

Of my skies ! 

I walk with stately steps 

Where'er my God may lead the way. 

198 



His paths are often not the ones 

Mine eyes would choose, 

Being bare and bleak, or else 

So heavily shaded, and undergrown 

That I scarce can find my steps. 

But ever my heart doth sing 

Its one sweet song: My God is wisdom, 

Love and care, and I know that later 

He will bring me into my full, full share. 

Later I shall walk with thee, and in my garden 
Thou shalt be all enshrined in a bower of roses 
Grown for thee, Oh thou divine soul of mine. 



Merry little Cupid 
Brings my heart to you! 

My heart is ever seeking for thee! 
Dost thou seek me? 



My heart is true ! 
Therefore I bring it to you! 

My heart is filled with good red blood, 
And only sees its God above! 

I seem to be groping, there is something I want 

to find. 
It is just a small jewel to wear, when I go forth 
199 



On my quest, in the coming day's dawn. 

Just a little jewel of hope and success, 

And that I shall stand the test. And when the 

day 
Has run its course, and the sun is sinking in the 

West, 
I shall be able to cry : "I have conquered." 

And now stand with the best. 

Little men, O how wise are they! 
With their haughty airs of wisdom 
So bold and free, and to them, 

How unwise are we! 

My God, teach me more patient to be, 
More loving and thoughtful of my kind, 

I pray of thee! 

Work, work, work! The morn will soon break 
Upon a vast eager throng, all hurrying to be first 
In the toil and swirl of the work-a-day world! 
The day will grow as the sun mounts on high, 
Till the noon of the day, when the short rest is 

nigh. 
Then work till the sun has set, is the lot 
Of the work-a-day life. 

Work, work, work! 

1 would that I could sit with thee 
And talk of all the things worth while. 

200 



The many subjects that now engross our minds 

And time, would give us themes 

In which to bring forth all our views 

Of every sort and kind. 

But time does press so hard, or else 

I would sit with thee awhile. 

Come, darling love, why hast thou not cared 

of me? 
I am still thy love, O my love, my life, 

O my darling come to me! 

Hold, my soul ! I will guide and guard thee 

Into great, grand realms of light, 

That will lead thee to where there is no night ! 

In the silent night, when the earth is wrapped 

In a soft and quiet light, 

Then come the Ancient Three, all inspired 

By the gods of Liberty ! 

Softly falls the light upon the way. 

Thy work is finished for the present day. 

So rest until the sun is high 

And then thy soul will take thee to the skies, 

To revel in the glorious light of high noontide. 

Dance, dance, my precious one, 
Thy song so free shall be. 
Grace and beauty of motion 
20 1 



Are all ascribed to thee. 

Come dance, dance, my precious one, 

And show to me thy grace of form so free, 

And I will worship at thy feet, 

In all humility. So dance my precious one, 

Come dance to me ! 



Soon, ah soon, wilt thou be free 
To dwell among thy kind, in perfect liberty. 
To expand thy mind to catch the thoughts 
Of God Divine! So my soul look up, 

And not behind! 

Death has no fears for me. 
It will only transport me 
To my God in Heaven, 

And the everlasting love. 

The winds do blow and the trees do bend 

With the weighing force of might. 

It is so like our lives ; 

We bend and we sway, with the wind that blows. 



Shadows are such restful things 
From the glaring sunlight of the day, 
And such dreamers of the softened moonlight 

On the lawns. 



202 



My country, I love but thee ! 
Thy views are broad and fine, 
Thy shores so free, 

O my country, I love but thee! 

October, thou richest month of the year, 

1 pray thee bring me a wealth of love and cheer. 
In thy glorious toning of trees and light 
Thou art the King of the year, 

Thou stately October, my heart's delight. 

Come, come, where the wild winds sing, 
Where the leaves are all gold and brown, 
With here and there a scarlet coat 
The love of the wind's wild song! 
We will wander by the brook, 
And list to its murmuring song 
As it gurgles its way along, 
To join in the wind's wild song. 
So come, come, and let us be gone! 

My soul will sing in tune with thee, 

My God of Night! 

Thou art come with a message of love 

To carry me through till the light breaks forth 

From the eastern sky, 

All glory to thee, 

My God of Night! 

On a desert far away, 
A single horseman rides. 
203 



His head is bent, he does not heed or see 

That the night is far, far spent, 

And that he is miles upon his way. 

He only dreams of his love 

Whom he has not seen, 

Except in his most perfect dreams. 

He counts the time that must elapse 

Ere his dreams are filled. 

He knows full well the line his love 

Has passed — and not until 

She has reached a high, high caste, 

Will she be his love at last. 

So he rides his way with his head still bent 

And with naught but a love of his thought. 

Come, come, do not give way 
To these lower thoughts of life; 
But put forth all thy strength of mind 
And soul, and live in brighter sight. 

Floating, floating, is our flag so free, 

On this, the Glorious Fourth, the anniversary 

Of our freedom and our birth, 

To all the blessings of our God; 

Floating, floating is our flag so free! 

A beautiful country road, so sweetly shaded, 
the trees making a haven of delight on a weary 
day, is like to the paths of Heaven, all rest and 
shade, to the soul, striving for the right. 

204 



I am not in tune to write 
Of all the winds that to us doth blow. 

Each one whispering music soft and low, 
Or else a gale of rhythm strong and full, 

The leaves all dancing to its tune. 
The trees bending and swaying in graceful mo- 
tion 

Attesting to the wind's firm call 
Of " Come, come, dance, one and all ! " 

The way seems dark, the light has not yet 

pierced 
The depths, to which I am inclined to look; 
But soon a star will shine out bright and clear 
And draw mine eyes from without their lowered 

gaze, 
And I shall be inclined to praise my God 
For all his loving grace. 

My soul, part from all thy smaller art 

And rise to visions of thy Creator's 

Most sublimest tone of every part. 

Portray the finer, higher things of life. 

Start an all-pervading theme 

Of God's most astounding scheme 

Of inspiring all the grandeur of the thoughts 

Along the stream, with which our paths are 

fraught 
In this daily struggle to do our part. 



205 



Hope, thou most blessed gift of God's wisdom, 
Thrice blessed art thou. 

We struggle and live on thee! 

Peace, like a calm refreshing scene, 
Brings us to the heart of things. 

The very centre of the universe 
Revolves on the simple word " Harmony." 

Love is an ideal formed in our minds, re- 
garding some one object. 

Pure spiritual love is like the most delicate 
cloak. 

It surrounds like a cloud, and is only meas- 
ured 

By the depths of its purity. 

The face of a picture often lies 
As to what is in the depths beyond. 
A past that is not of beauty untold, 
Ofttimes shines, resplendent with gold. 

My love runs on at an alarming pace. 
I am always dreaming of his face, 
My every thought is for his care. 
My soul is wrapped in space, and I desire 
Nothing but to dwell within his gates. 
206 



My heart ever calls for its mate, 

I am happy only when he is nigh. 

My love, my love, what an alarming pace, 

And where will it lead me to? A safe 

And sheltered life, or strand me on a desert bare, 

With only mine own love to face ! 

I am filled with misgivings, if my Love 

Is the least bit late, and straightway 

Begin to hate every pleasure or duty 

That causes me to wait. Do you wonder 

That I am alarmed at its pace? 

Dream, my soul, 

For soon thou must awake 

And work, work, work! 

The witchery of the hour steals o'er me, 
My thoughts to thee fly out on swiftest wing; 
I am thy love, O my soul, why not now ? 
Why art thou hidden so deeply from my gaze ? 
I would thy lips to me in a warm embrace. 
Thy arms are now so far in space ! 
O my soul, make haste, make haste! 
And come to me, with thy ever-winning grace. 
My love for thee hast not lost the smallest part. 
It is a wide rushing stream that would cleanse 

thee 
Of all thy lesser arts, and would put thee 
On a pinnacle far apart, from all that tortures 

now thy heart. 



207 



O my love, dost thou hear my prayer, nay, my 

command ? 
To come, no more to part, but to live together 
In the widening grace of Art! 

Great the reward of the faithful few 
Who earnestly do their work. 
They are outnumbered far and wide, 
By the line of those untrue. 

My love, my love, is a star so bright, 
So shining with truth and light. 
Gay and happy, and always full of delight. 
My love, my love, is a star so bright ! 

My love, my love is a flower of fairest kind, 

She shines with a love divine. 

She yields a perfume of God's own mind 

In the thoughts she inspires in this heart of 

mine. 
O my love, my love, is a flower of rarest kind. 

My love, my love, is a jewel rare and pure 
Of light! A gem of brilliancy that shines out 
Through the darkest night, to lead me on 
To the morning bright. 

My love, my love, is a jewel rare and pure of 
light. 



208 



My love, my love, is a song of never ending 

themes, 
Ofttimes soft and low, and then a loud full flow 
Of glorious dreams, that I have dreamed in the 

long ago. 
My love, my love, is a song of never ending 

themes ! 

The wideness of my love is not to be measured. 
Nay, it could not be stayed, in any given part. 
It pours itself over every heart, and in return 
Is given "a broken and a crushed heart. 

Come baby dear, we will travel afar 

Into that glorious land of stars 

Where each one shines for thee ! 

A bright, leading star. When thou 

Art grown to man's estate, 

I wonder which will rule thy fate? 

Dost thou think they would tell thee 

Of thy loves and thy part in this world's wide 

pace? 
Dost thou think they know the art 
Of telling thy lifelong fate — but come, 
Baby dear, we will travel and see their state ; 
And thou shalt rest for the night, 

Cradled in the arms of thy fate! 

I feel thy love, my soul, thy thoughts 
Are all around and in and out. 
They stamp themselves upon my sight 
209 



And wrap me in a vapory cloud, 

Not to my soul's delight. 

For then I am filled with a doubt 

Of my strength, to withstand 

The calling of thy thoughts all about. 

O what a merry, merry day, 

When folks will do more laugh and play 

Not to look so serious and so sad ! 

With such grave, long faces 

Now their cares are clad. 

Some day they will throw them all away 

And be merry and so glad ; their tasks 

Will lighten as the rising day, 

Breaks into glorious light 

That will carry their burdens far away. 

Oh my heart, sing and sing and sing ! 
Merry, merry be thy song! 
Happy, happy be thy chant! 
Sing, O sing forever, O my heart. 
And thy life will ne'er depart, 
Sing, O sing forever, O my heart. 

Come, my beauty, speak, and show thy grace so 

fair. 
Thou hast a world of knowledge stored so deep, 
Why not part with a share ? 



210 



Wilful, wilful little lad, 

Never giving to thy ways? 

Always fighting, striving 

For some other thing to do. 

But the years will tell 

A tale of love 

And care, of thy lightest wish; 

So do not despair, but give him 

All the love and care, 

And be patient with his trying ways ! 

Rock, rock, my darling one, 

And soothe thy tiredness away. 

In the next day's dawning 

Thou wilt feel the strength 

That for a time has flown far away. 

So rest, rest my love, 

And in resting cometh strength ! 

Swaying, swaying, on the wings of the night. 

The moon and the stars so bright. 

The waves are lapping on the shore, 

Like a warm summer night. O that I were with 

thee, 
Swaying on the wings of night ! 
We could fly far from the day, and its glare 
Of light. And hide ourselves in the woods, 
Until again comes the warm summer night. 
But Alas, I am far from thee, 
And thou must sway alone upon the wings of 

night ! 

My Love, my Angel of Light ! 
211 



The sails are set, my ship is going at a rapid 

pace. 
The sea is wild and choppy, but I have no fear. 
My sails are firm, and I can sail straight on 
To Heaven, my home, at last ! 

Tell me Fates of my life, what has it yet in store ? 
Am I to meet with strife and fighting, is my 

soul 
To be torn once more? Is my heart to be 

bowed 
With sorrow and care, or have I a glorious life 

before ? 
With never a thought or a care, and a bright, 

radiant soul? 
Tell me fate, which hast thou in store? 



The sea is wild and fierce, the storm is raging 

high, 
The ships are beaten here and there. 
The thunder rolls, and the lightning shoots 
Its fire upon the waters deep and wild. 
And every soul is tense with fear, and prays 
That God will grant his care, to safety and to 

light. 
But the storm in fierceness rolls, the bells ring 

out 
In deep despair, and all upon the waters dark 

and deep 
Are doomed to lie beneath the fury of its waves. 



212 



But God is with them, and before the day will 

break 
They shall have winged their way on high. 

The glorious air, the sun so bright, 

And the waters blue, should tempt you to go 

Thereunto; and dance with the waves, as they 

fly along, 
To catch an inspiration from the winds' wild 

song. 

Far, far away, there is a soul 

Full of a great unrest. There are tasks 

That must be done, and how and when and 

where, 
The soul cannot attest. There is a wrong 
That must be righted, ere that soul 
Can rest in peace, and pursue its upward way. 
It prays, and prays, but sees no light, 
Its space is small, its strength is light, 
It grovels now, where it should rise and shine. 
I pray that God will send a star, 
To lead the soul to firmer ground, 
Of honor, truth and love ! 

I wonder if there is a spot in all the world 
Of rapture and of bliss, where the serpent 
Never enters with its sting and hiss. 
I wonder if, some day, we people all will dwell 
In harmony of life and thought, of kindly deed, 
And action, for each other fraught. 
213 



Making all the lines of love and grace 
For each others' peace and sake. 

I wonder if we will come to this glorious way, 
Of living for each other in a most unselfish way. 

1 cease to wonder, but will pray, that all 

May realize the beauty of love and truth, along 
the way. 

Wandering along in a shaded path 

Of the wild woods free, I see a flower 

That is waiting to be plucked. 

It is hidden very deeply, carefully shaded 

By a tree: but I will gently, very gently 

Bring it forth, so that all the world may see. 

It is a dainty, modest little flower. 

Of bloom so fine and sweet, that all 

Will marvel, on what road I did it meet. 

I shall shield it very gently 

From the bright, hard gaze of light. 

I cannot part with this flower of my life. 

So I shall find a hidden nook, 

To keep it from all strife. 

There is a merry little stream of water 
Running down a hill. Such a happy, 
Gurgling little stream, as it rushes on and on, 
Always dancing, and laughing its bright song. 
Such a pleasure, just to look 

At that merry little stream. 



214 



The days of winter are coming nigh, 
The signs of the season are all about. 
My love, you and I can scarce command, 
The funds for a winter's route. 
But hope will stay high, that a chance 
May bring it about! 

In the coming years there will many changes be 
By modes of travel on land and sea. 
Wars will rage in every clime. This country 
Will advance beyond the older world. 
New rulers will spring up, in eager hope 
Of putting all things in wider scope. 
Prominent men will drop from view. 
A radical change is coming, making all things 

new. 
So watch from the first of the month 
For your higher view ! 

The lives of many are in danger deep, 

Of the sudden falling to sleep, 

To awake in another land; but rest thy soul, 

Thou art safe from falling to sleep. 

Thou hast many years in which to give of thy 
love 

And strength of thought. So courage and do 
thy best 

To be the first in the march, to God's everlast- 
ing rest. 



215 



How many years old are you, little maid? 

How many summers have you played 

In God's most blessed land? 

Are you a wee, wee toddler, 

Or are you a young lady, with a heart and hand ? 

They olden so rapidly nowadays, 

And give themselves airs and graces so fine, 

That one can scarcely remember, 

If they are nine, or nine and nine ! 

The cold snapping air makes one plan 

Such a wealth of tasks to do. 

It spurs one on to a higher view 

And makes one dream of the Christmas hue. 

The blazing fire on the hearthstone sings 

And leaps in tune, and all things seem 

To gather new force, to pursue their onward 

course 
In this most glorious part 

Of the early Autumn moon ! 

All along the way, are gathered by the Ancient 

Three 
The gems of thought spread out so bright for 

thee. 
Thou hast caught them well, my soul of light, 
And they are very proud of thee ! 

There dwelt a robin in a tree, 
He sang his lays so wild and free, 
He lived a merry life, did he. 
216 



No cares to burden his bright breast. 

No mate, said he, " I desire only 

To be free." There came a charmer 

Flying along, and Robin, what did he? 

Why, turned his head, and shut his eyes, 

And never a note sang he. 

But somehow the tree, or his life so free, 

Was not so desirable, thought he. 

So he turned his head, and opened his eyes, 

And O how sweetly sang he. 

He plumed his coat, and straight after 

The charmer flew he. 

Day divides the night, 

Night divides the day. 

So are all our lives 

First dark, then light holds sway. 

I dreamed of you, my love, 
I thought we wandered far, 
To a garden all in shade, 
And there we stayed. 

Yellow bird, yellow bird, 
Sing, sing, sing! 
In thy gilded cage thou hast not 
Much room to wing, but 

Thou canst sing, sing, sing! 



217 



My sweetheart lives in a country lane. 
She is a dear little lass of no special fame. 
But a right good wife I know will be her name. 

Passion is such an exquisite thing, 
Rightly used to create fine wide themes. 
Not to debase one's soul, by only answering 
The call of the body, but together to create 
The whole, a life or a work of art. 
A poem or a fine story in all its parts. 
This my friends is passion 
In its finer, higher arts. 

Sigh never so sweetly, my love, 
Sing always so brightly, my dove. 
God's care is never away from thee, love, 
Where'er thy home may be, on land or sea, 
Thou art always in his care, and love, 
My precious, precious dove. 

My love is like a raging fire, 

It bursts out into flame that almost 

Consumes my body, with the intenseness 

Of its blaze. And then I create something fine 

And new, and my soul comes forth to view. 

As I look out upon the moving throng, 
The vastly busy people of the earth, 
Either to their pleasures or their work, 
They hurry so along. Their faces eager, 
218 



Expectant or worried, drawn, and some 

O so forlorn ! None bear the stamp 

Of peaceful pleasure, none have time 

For a smile to give along. It is push, 

And rush, and " O how do you do ! 

Well, I must hurry on ! " Why all this ceaseless 

rush? 
Life is short, to be sure, but we should take time 
To live our span on earth, 
In an atmosphere of love and brightest mirth. 
To always have time for a chat and a smile, 
For a kind deed, or to sorrow with a friend in 

need 
For awhile. This everlasting mad, mad whirl 
Would cease, and life run on, like a river 
Of peace. We should take time to look around 
And learn our country's charm. 
To love our neighbors would do no harm, 
But this all takes time, and time is the goad 
That is driving us on, and on. 
For what, my world? Why nothing 
But a small narrow mound, to leave to the gaze 
Of those who may chance around. 

Far up among the mountains of snow 

There dwells a bird of sweetest song, 

And soon it will descend, 

To give forth its golden flow. 

Thou must watch that they treat it 

With all due care, this golden bird of the snow. 

It will burst upon the world 

219 



With glories yet untold. Its purity 
And sweetness are above the usual flow ; 
And some may not care for this golden bird 
Of the snow; for they will feel 
The blackness of their souls, and of course 
That they would rather not know. 
But most of the people will love 
This golden bird of the snow, 

Ring out, thou joyous bells so free! 
This is a gala time for thee. 
When all is full of mirth and glee. 
Angels sing for thee, thou joyous bells, 
Ring out so free! 

Never think thy friends mean 
Anything but good to thee. 
Always take their little whims 
And ways, in best of heart, 
And thou wilt surely find 
Their most perfect part. 

My hopes are dashed upon a rock, 
But that only serves to make them fly 
To greater heights. Sprays of truth 
Will spread themselves around, 
Even as a wave is flung upon a rock, 
And breaks to greater beauty and space. 



220 



Wrap thyself in thy coat of gold. 

It will not hide thy soul 

Which shines out so bold, and in thy face 

Is told. 

Suggestion? What is suggestion? 

A desire put forth regarding some one soul, 

Either to its advantage or disadvantage. 

If I were only a bird 

And could sail away so free, 

I would fly straight to thee. 

Oft a strain of music soft and sweet 
Is wafted on the air to me. 
Just enough to take me o'er to thee. 
And there I dwell in peace and love so free. 
My love, with thee. 

Love, why dost thou look sad? 
Is thy heart aheavy and burdened to the last? 
Cheer, cheer my love, the skies are bright 
And not o'ercast. Thou must see all things 
In a rosy light. My love, be of cheer, and 

bright. 
Thy days will come. O my love thou must not 
Be sad! 

Thou hast walked the earth full many a year 
In high estate, and without fear. 
221: 



Thou hast covered thy paths full well. 
Thou hast stood for all that is fine and high. 
Mark you, only stood; for in reality 
Thou hast crawled upon the ground, 
And grovelled to the lowest kind. 
Thy pride and high estate were only a blind, 
Which, if thou art not careful 
Will be drawn aside, leaving thee 
Naked to the world's wide eyes. 
Then thou wilt shrink with fear and take thee 
To some spot so hidden, that I fain would say 
The world will know thee not; but if thou be- 
ware 
There is yet a time to change thy mode of life 
If thou throw aside thy shams, 
And stand forth for truth, and in the light. 
Then perchance the world may see 
Thy name in finest sight. So, my soul, 
Put forth all thy strength, and fight 
For the right, not as thy soul at present 
Counteth right, but in God's light. 

Come, sweetheart, come, and give 
Of thy life's best love. We can wander 
Into lands of light, that are garland 
With roses all the way. We can sing 
Of our heart's delight in notes 
Not restrained. We can follow the rosy lights 
That keep us ever trying to gain the heights. 
Come, sweetheart, come with me and perchance 
We may gain a star, in which to rest our love. 
Just you my love, and me. 

222 



my love of the desert wild, 

1 am coming to thee. Coming as fast 
As the time and space admit of me. 
My heart is now with thee, 

My soul pours out its best of offering 
For thee. O my love of the desert, 
Would I were with thee ! 



The world is numbered in ones, twos and threes, 
And if you watch each decade of time, 
You will -find only a multiple of these. 

O my darling I have waited ages and ages 
For thee. Cast thou thy lot with me 
And I will make a queen of thee. I stand 
For purity of thought, and numbers of degree. 
O my angel I have waited long for thee. 

Come my soul of high desire. 
Thou hast conquered all the foes 
That have presented their finest sights 
To thee. Thou hast striven for the right, 
And truth has always been thy watchword free. 
Come now, my soul, with me, and I 
Thy reward will show to thee. 
Thou shalt reach thy highest aim 
In all thy striving, whate'er it be, 
So come, my soul, and join thy forces 
With me ! 



223 



O that I could take thee in my arms 
And crush thee to my heart. 
To draw my life to thine, so that I 
Could impart to thee of my strength 
To thy very heart. 

Drink, drink, my soul, thou hast need 

Of the waters of life, to quench the fire 

That rages with the heat and strife 

Of the work-a-day life. Drink deeply 

My soul, of the waters of life, 

That thy energy may be gathered and stored 

For thy future life, that will not always 

Be of strife, or a work-a-day life. 

Sweetheart, sweetheart, go on thy way, 
And bring me a flower as bright as day. 
I will always love thee while thou art away, 
So sweetheart hasten to gather me the flower 
By the way. 

Come, come, out into the moonlight clear, 

Let us watch the fairies, dear. 

They are having such a revel and play 

They would not mind our watching them, I say. 

But if they do, we can quietly steal away. 

I would give my higher forces sway, 
If I were in a whirl, and did not 
Know which way. I would rest my soul 
224 



And not go fluttering round 

A deep, dark hole, that might engulf my 

Very life and soul. 

There dwelt a sage in the years gone by 

Whose task was not completed ere his soul 

Mounted high. He gave many promises 

And wide, beautiful thoughts, 

Which most of the world forgot. 

But his soul has never ceased to strive 

For his tasks to be completed 

And put forth to the world's wide eyes. 

But a soul to impress with a love of his thoughts 

Was a task at length. Now this sage of the 

years 
Past and gone, has discovered a life 
That was born to put forth his song. 
It was tortured and put through the fires of 

Hell 
To bring forth the purity of thought 
He loved so well. 

What art thou, to talk of caste? 

Thou lowest of the earth, 

Taking only for thy gain, 

With never a thought of the pain thou hast 

given, 
And never a thought of shame for thy past. 
What hast thou at heart, but thy pleasure 
And lust, and gain of money with which not to 

part, 

225 



Only for thine own adornment. Of Art? 

Why dost thou dare to talk of caste 

In the least of part, thou adder of the heart ! 

Thou wilt sting the truest friend, 

Aye, even unto death, and then laugh 

At thy part. But unto thee, not far hence 

Will be measured out thy reward, 

And the measure will be filled to its flowing out, 

To all the world, thou adder of the heart! 

In all things — even thoughts. 

My friends, I would say, be moderate 

Thoughts, who can follow a thought? 

Always consider well thy ways. 
As one never knows who is just around the 
corner. 

Ways, ways, always ways ! 

Ah me, the time has come and gone, 

I must away to gather strength 

And fresh new energy, for hours 

Of sweet communion with my dearest friends, 

Qf all most true and tried. 

Soul of my soul, where art thou? 
Where art thou now? 
Just to look at least upon thy face, 
Thy face I worship so! 
226 



My more than life, my love of loves, 

My life of loves art thou! 

If thou didst only know 

How this poor heart did beat for thee, 

Then thou wouldst surely come to me, 

My love ! My soul of loves art thou ! 

Oh my love, my life, my all in all ! 

I pray you listen to my call 

Of love so soft and low. 

O love, my love, I love you so. 

O that my soul were on its winged flight 

Far above this earthly sight. 

Far from all this maddening strife of life,. 

This everlasting struggle to be first 

In the fight of right and might! 

And all this vying to do 

What every other body does, 

Or just a little better. All this feverish haste 

And rush, this maddening rush for what? 

To finally fold our hands and lay our burdens 

down 
With scarce a ripple of the waves. 

Fate, what is Fate? 

That to which we unconsciously are drawn, 

Even though worlds separate. 

Gradually we drift together, 

We and our fate! 

227 



Life? What is life, 

But the mere breathing in 

Of God's atmosphere. 

" Worth while is every little thing, 

So despise not even the smallest atom." 

So saith one of our greatest minds. 

This night will bring me to a sense of steady 

light 
That will glow forever in my sight. 
Not these fleeting, changing dreams of light 
That have flared before my view, but I shall 

grasp 
A permanent light of glorious hue. 

God Divine will dwell within our hearts 
If we but open wide the gates of Love 
To all mankind, and give forth here and there 
A word, a deed, of smallest part. 

Free? We are never free! 
Except from one bond into another. 

What a difference another's coming " 

Into our lives makes ! 

A dream of joy, or an everlasting sorrow, 

For we never quite lose the sense 

Of a disappointed friendship ! 

228 



Ah me, my mind is so full of beauty, 
Flowers and color, I scarce can separate them 
To put forth in words, to make a poem or a 
song. 

live with me, my love, and let us create 
Some thoughts of peace and truth. 

Some fine wide thoughts of love and life. 

1 am sorely tired, 'twixt so many ways to go. 
I know not which will lead me 

To where I most desire to rest. 

Each road has its inviting scenes 

Beckoning me to travel on its paths. 

If I could but see the end that each presents 

Or the thorns along the paths, I still might 

Hesitate. Who knows? 



A day's dream, did you say, Ah me ! 
I fear me it is so. I had hoped so high 
Of a rest at last, with a soul of purity 
And love. But you are keener visioned 
Than I, and have read the heart aright. 

On this fair, bright morning I shall see 

Some of God's finest handiwork. 

I shall sing in strains so fine, 

Of all the things divine 

That my soul in Heaven shall shine. 

229 



I love to linger in the evening's falling shade, 
Linger by the river's swiftly flowing tide. 
To dream, and let my soul be bathed 
In refreshing thoughts that come so pure and 
sweet. 



Swinging, swinging, lazily swinging, 

Dreaming, dreaming, lazily dreaming 

Of my love and her gold brown eyes and hair. 

I wonder if in the morning I shall be 
All enthroned in quiet and in shade, 
And in perfect harmony shall dwell 
All these heated Summer days. 

The Lord is coming forth to herald to all the 

world 
The beauties of the sky, the wondrous light of 

love 
So far beyond the vision of our eyes. 
Look thee well my soul, and thou shalt see 
The vision of our God on high. 

If I cou,ld only write of all the things 
I can't quite grasp, O what exquisite pictures 
I could pen, of all the finest, highest/ 
Most ethereal things. 

The way is long and wide, and I am sorely tried 
By many who would incline my way. 
230 



Not from any good to me, but just to make 
A stumbling way, for my poor feet to tread, 
So that my progress will be slow. 

Sitting by the hearth, I dream the wildest 

dreams 
Of Love and Art. I fancy I can see 
The shadows of a famous part that I might have 

played 
To the world's ever-searching gaze. 
Of the hills I might have climbed 
That led to the mountain's top. 
Where I then could gaze beyond the highest 

haze, 
Into God's most glorious parts of Love and Art. 
But I awake to sigh and to part, 
From my shadowy dreams of Art. 

My heart is light, and I am full of joy 
Of the very living, in this land of love 
And I pray that I may never lose my sight 
Of the heart of hearts, my God above. 

In the softly shaded wood, 
There my soul expands. 
I feel as though my life would be 
Rested on a plane of thought 
So broad and all inclusive, 
That to conquer worlds, I could. 



231 



O for more harmony of soul ! 
So that the everlasting wearing 
Of one's body, would be lessened. 
So much strength and energy now is wasted, 
In this continual warring of inharmonious 
forces ! 



O my darling sun of early light! 

Thou dost bring forth such a world of thought! 

Inspired by thy tones, all wrought 

In an ever-changing scheme 

Of exquisite scene! 

The morning light is here, and I must soon away, 
To duties new and old. I pray my day may not 

be lost 
To all the brighter cheer, nor yet a truth untold. 
Give to me a strength, to carry all my trials 
To the ocean of thy love, where they will be 

merged 
In thy ever-flowing tide, and I shall see only 
The brighter side. I pray for patience with my 

fellow men, 
And that just to the smallest part, I may be to 

them: 
So that ere my head is pillowed for its nightly 

rest, 
God shall say " Thou hast given of thy best." 
And then that my soul may mount on high, to be 

refreshed, 
Ere another morning's light draws nigh ! 
232 



October's most welcome days are here. 
The blue Indian haze will soon appear. 
The nuts and leaves so brown, will to the earth 
Be drawn, and all the trees stand out so bold 

and free. 
To be covered later by a winter's coat of snow 

and ice. 
But now, October, whilst thou art tinting all the 

world 
With such a loving hand, cast all thy brightest 

sheen 
Upon my life, and I shall praise thee forever. 
Thou October days of warmest light ! 

Come, come to me! Why dost thou 
Stay so long from me? 
What have I left undone for thee, 
That thou shouldst desert of me? 
O my soul of love, answer thou me ! 

The way is fraught with many cares 
Of body and of soul. I am lost amid them all. 
But in my humble way, I shall stand 
Finally above them, and they shall bend to my 
call. 



The way is lightened, and I see 

With clear eyes, the thoughts of God, 

Far, far beyond the skies ! 



233 



Come, my friend, we will away 
To the ocean's broad expanse, 
And perchance we may find a light 
To lead us to a clearer way. 

I wonder if in all the world 
There is a contented soul, 
Resting in absolute peace 
Of self control; control of desires 
Which lead to all our trials of life. 
I wonder if in this world of strife, 
I might find a soul of like ! 

Well, how goes the day, my dear? 

Have you had your trials, or has it 

Been a day of cheer ? God grant your skies 

Are forever clear! 

Striving, always striving, some for the right 
Others not at all in the light, 
But nevertheless they are striving 
With all their might. 

Mixing, mixing, mixing, that is the sadness of 

life. 
The ingredients are not always measured out 

aright. 
Mixing, mixing, mixing, so comes all our strife. 



234 



Lonesome, darling, did you say ? Why, 

When I am always by your side 

To lighten all your way, 

You must not be lonesome darling, 

But always gay. Gay as a butterfly 

On its winged way. 

It has such a pitifully short life, 

But thou hast such a long, long way. 

Surely thou wilt not be lonesome 

If I by thee stay! 

Light, there are so many kinds of light, 

That the world moves on, 

To a beautiful intermingling 

Of the most exquisite tones and shades. 

The day is one to make the heart right glad 

Of simple joys that are to be had. 

The walk and talk, just to watch the busy throng 

Hurrying to their pleasure of sight and song, 

Give one a bright bit of life, 

In this great wide city of pleasure and song! 

Making one lose sight of the strife, 

That we know is always along. 

O my darling love, how could you be so cruel? 
You turned the tide of public censure right my 

way, 
You put me in a position quite untrue, 
You instigated things I should not do! 
And then very quietly left me all the rue ! 
235 



O my darling love, how could you be so short 

of view, 
Later you will have the rue! 

The sun is breaking on the mountain tops, 

The mists have lifted from off the sea, 

And my thoughts are ever turning o'er to thee, 

My precious Land of Liberty. 

How I long to see thy shores, to walk thy paths 

So free! I am full of a longing to soar 

To see my old, old home once more. 

My beautiful home, on the shore, 

Of the ocean's great grand roar! 

Come, come with the earth's fair dawn, 
Stay not and waste these precious hours 
But fly to the hills, and gather the rills 
And trills of the earth's fair morn! 

There is an old log cabin 

Up among the hills, 

Which contains the promise 

Of a life of greater force 

Of wider sight, than ever as yet 

Has come to life. 

In the West the blue night haze has not yet 

gone. 
In the East the day's fair dawn 
Is slowly bringing into view, 
236 



All the colors so fare and true. 

The golden light that no one as yet 

Has pictured quite aright. 

There is a shading of tone brought out 

By the lights behind the throne. 

Now all are massing into a beautiful golden ball, 

That gives forth its radiance to one and all, 

From the glorious East, to Nature's call; 

And the blue night haze has given place 

To the glorious golden ball. 

Good night, fair maid, peaceful be thy dreams, 
Loving thoughts will follow thee 
Through the long, long night. 
Good night, fair maid, good night! 

I should like to sound a note so sweet and clear 
That it would reach to the hills, 
And rest in the tree tops, 

And bring forth all its trills ! 

Come little boy, and say your prayer, 

It is time and high, that you were safely 

Tucked away in your little bed, 

To dream of the fairies that dwell in the glen, 

And only come out when the moon is at ten. 

Some day when you have older grown 

And the eyes will stay open till then, 

You may remain up till ten. 



237 



My love is now on the ocean wave, 
Living the simple life so true. 

God grant him the light to see this life 
From thine own view. His life 

Has been one great sham of the truth, 

Never admitting the sun of thy heart. 

Pray open his eyes to thy world's fair skies, 

And give him of thy love's most precious part. 

Teach him that simple things are true 

And not to go back to find his art, 

But onward, and forward ever, to the truth. 

Love of my life, I come to thee, 

In all my travails of life. 

They are sore and many, and O so heavy, 

1 can scarce creep along to thee ! 
But soon, ah soon, I shall be free 

To live, and to work alone, with thee! 
Ah my love, it will soon be time 
To throw aside all these bonds, and be free ! 
Free, to come to thee ! 

Free from all our cares, soon we all shall be. 

In the glory of the early Autumn days, 

They will bring such a change of bright good 

things 
That to us, wearied with the Summer heat 
And burdened with our extra cares, 
It will seem like Heaven, and the coming of our 

King. 



238 



Once there dwelt a man of wisdom, 

In a forest home. 

He ne'er aspired, or desired, 

To own that forest or that home. 

And thereby hangs a tale so long, 

I must now decline it; 

But some time later, I shall fully rhyme it! 

Justice will be meted out some day, 

The scales must balance to the finest grain, 

So courage, my poor souls, who now are 

weighted 
Far, far down. You will rise to victory, 
And your crown. 

The greatest crown of all is Justice. 

It levels all things, no matter how great or 

small. 
Injustice breaks down all fine forces of body 

and mind. 

Just, be always just, even to a penny, 
And of thoughts, guard them well. 

Love me all my life, In my care and strife, 
In my beauty, and my fading light. 

Three cheers for the girls in snowy white ! 
They would make a gallant crew, 
To propel a ship on the ocean blue. 
239 



I will write a pretty story that will bring the 

heart 
To beauty and cleanness of thought. 
Come, come my Muse, and stay with me? 
I must work, work for victory. 

Mauretta, thou must beware ! 

Thou art treading on dangerous snares. 
Thou art likely to be engulfed in a stream 
That will lead to unknown realms of despair. 
'Tis a short, easy road to go down, 
But O so high and so steep, 

1 fear me thou wouldst never be able 
Again to climb to its peak. 

So beware, beware, Mauretta, beware ! 

My soul, thou hast lived many, many years 
Of heartache and pangs of grief 
From all thy friends, so-called. 
But now thou wilt make some of steel, in truth, 
And all will give to thee of thy soul's best call. 
So take heart, and stand out bold and free, 
To face them all! 

My latest hope of a friendship deep, 
Will open out to an exquisite fete 
Of love and flowers of every hue, 
And depths so sweet and true, that I 
Shall be enraptured into writing 
Something bright and entirely new, 
To give to the world my exquisite view. 
240 



O my love dost thou not know my heart 

Is of such a simple part? A smile, a look 

Dost make it start, and fly to thee, 

My other heart! Dost thou not feel it 

Nestle down so close to thee, 

In all its loving art? 

Canst thou not know it is all of love 

And truth, and only for the better part? 

O my love, thou must know my heart ! 

Come to me my love, and I will cling so close 

to thee, 
That there will scarce be a breath 
That can come between you and me. 
So come, come, my love, and stay with me, 
And in one eternal bliss we shall be. 



The day is not of inspiration yet, 

It is too cold and wet. 

It dampens all ardor, yet before the day is spent, 

We shall reap a harvest of good intent. 

morn so bright, in thy glorious uprising, 

1 know that thou wilt bring me something grand 

and wide. 
Something far beyond the now inscribed 

Thoughts, 
So I await the coming morn, with eager eyes 

and heart. 



2 J 



Sweet, sweet, up, and bright be thy day! 
E'en though the sky be overcast. 
Thy voice and brightness will spread sunshine 
All the way! 

Worth while? Why everything is worth while! 
The poorest creature that walks the earth 
Can find something worth while. 
So say you not again, " It is not worth while." 

The village street is gay 
With all the folks from out of town. 
For it is market day, and Peggy 
With her wares so fine, 
Seeks to delight the eyes of all the town, 
And perchance to make a crown, 
Peggy with eyes so brown ! 
And the sweetest mouth of all the lassies 
Around about the country side of Glen Alough. 
Her ways would charm the sixpence 
Out of the meanest miser of them all, 
If her wares were not so fine a work of art 
And love of heart. The butter, 
And the curdled cheese, 
The little cakes of toothsome sweet, 
The rolls and bread of snowy wheat, 
All arranged with flowers, and loving pride, 
Make a picture fit for the king's own eyes. 
So we need not fear that Peggy will have aught 
To make her day, but one of heart's delight ; 
And later, at the feast and dance, 
242 



It is she who will shine out far in advance 

Of any other lass, for Peggy is of high, high 

class, 
Who has stooped to the homelier tasks, 
To lighten the burden of her shattered caste. 
And some day she will reign, over another golden 

train. 
So good luck to Peggy, of Love and Art, 
And may she always have the grace to fill her 

part 
In the world's great pageant to the heart of 

hearts ! 



Fine? Why everything is fine! 
Even the smallest rhyme. 
For it carries a line from this heart of mine. 
And everything that comes from the heart 
Is fine ! 



The Lord is ever mindful of his flock, 

And to those who do their duty, just and fair, 

Comes He to them, with their full, full share. 

O my child, be of good cheer, always! 
Good cheer brings many blessings, 
Not the least of these a happy heart. 

The lights and shades that fall 
From through the trees, 
Are like our lives; so many touches 
243 



Of pleasure, causing. a lightening 
And lifting of the clouds 
That ordinarily hang low 
Over most lives. 



In the morning, early as the dawn, 

Then my thoughts will come to thee 

With the brightness of a song, 

Singing gloriously all the day long, 

Of the beauty of the land, and sky and sea. 

Of themes so wide, and fine and high, 

That thy soul enraptured all will be; 

And the world assume a color of so bright a 

hue 
That thine eyes can scarce command, 
So accustomed are they to the gloom of our 

daily view. 
So arise my soul, with the early dawn, 
And haste thee to thy lays of love, 
And win a place among the most esteemed 
Of God, in the high Heavens above ! 

My heart is breaking with all this weight of 

woe. 
It has come, blow after blow, till I am numb 
And bewildered. 
I am bereft of all that I loved. 
My days are one long dream of woe. 
My nights are spent in the depths ! 
O my heart is breaking 
Why should this come, when all the skies 
244 



Are so blue, and the grass of so vivid a hue, 

When all things are springing into life 

And the flowers are so exquisitely bloomed? 

Why, O why should this sorrow 

Come in with a rush and a whirl, 

Taking in everything in its mad, mad swirl. 

O my heart is breaking! 

Is thy thirst aquenched? 

Hast thou taken all thine own? 

Wilt thou leave me an atom of peace 

With which to rest my soul? 

For it is pitifully tried on this wheel of woe. 

So rest, rest, from thy sorrow, 

For at last my heart is broken, I know. 

Broaden out thy views, take a wider sight 

Of all thy life. Think not so much 

Of the everlasting to-morrow, or its strife. 

Dost thou realize the truths that are given thee? 

In the most unheard of times, 

When they come so unheralded, they are of the 

truest, 
Finest kind. All great thoughts flow like water 
From the fountain head. They have much to 

cleanse 
Upon their way, so that oft times they are lost 
To sight, till the glory of God 

Brings them forth to light ! 



245 



Thou hast much to fight from all the planes, 
A never ceasing fight, to pull thee down 
From out thy skies of light. 
But on and on, with courage go, 
My soul of love will ever light thee on thy way, 
A small, bright, glimmering star. 

Yesterday methought my life was very drear 
But to-day the sun shines bright and clear, 
And I am moved to higher planes, 
Ere another night draws near. 
Life seems quite worth while, 
All things are in a rosy light, 
Just because the sun shines bright. 
My sun, my darling sun of light ! 
It brings a lesson strongly home to me, 
And I must learn it right by sight, 
That it is the sun and not the night, 
That I must follow, if I would reach the highest 
light. 

Thou busy, busy bee ! 

Thou hast drawn all the honey from the flowers 

That I had hoped to gather for my sight. 

Thou hast not left one little flower 

To brighten out the night! 

There is a river broad and wide, 
Which flows with a swiftly flowing tide. 
It leads to a southern clime 
And eastern gaze. On the banks of the river 
246 



Deep in shade, there stands a cottage 
Among the glade, just a summer cottage 
In its light and shade. 

But in that cottage you will find contentment 
With a quiet, peaceful age. 
For within dwells a most renowned sage. 
His vision of life is wide and long. 
He counts the stars as a song. 
His soul ascends to the Highest Throne, 
And he gleans the words of God alone, 
This sage who dwells in the cottage alone, 
On the banks of the river broad and wide, 
That carries content in its flowing tide, 
Is never alone, for with him 
God always abides! 

There flows a river broad and long 
Through a land of pure delight, 
Where some day thou shalt dwell 
In God's most perfect light. 

Light on thy way, thou brilliant star ! 
Thou emblem of a future life. 
All filled with God, and light ! 

Joy go with you in the morning ! 
Joy go with you all the day! 
Joy will be with you in the morning, 
And for all time shall stay! 



247 



Baby darling, come rock with me, 

And we will journey far across the sea. 

O such wonders we will find, 

Just you and me, till the light grows dim, 

And our eyes can scarcely see ! 

Then we'll rest our travels, and gently, 

Very gently rocked we'll be, 

So come baby darling, just you, and me ! 

Such brown little eyes, as they look up to me, 

that I could know what is in store for thee. 

1 pray thy life will rise and soar 
Far out over this land so free! 
My dear little brown eyed boy, 

Of seven and three. 

Well, sweetheart, how goes the way? 

Are you happy, darling one, 

In your travels of land and sea? 

There are trials that come to all, my love, 

We none can walk in the least little bit free. 

So be happy, darling one, 

And I soon shall dwell with thee. 

Dream on, my soul, dream on! 
You will soon awake to a bliss untold 
Of beauty and love divine ! 
So dream, dream, my soul, 
Of all that will be thine, 

When thou awake in this glorious world of 
mine. 

248 



This beautiful land so far beyond the sea, 
As yet undiscovered, except by me, 
And O, how happy we shall be, you and I, 
In this beautiful world of mine. 
Where all is peace and freedom 
From the cares of your present life, 
Which now is so filled with sorrow and strife. 
There you will join with me 
In the wandering beauty of life, 
With never a stake or cord to bind 
To the old, sad, life. 

So dream, -dream, my soul, until thou awake 
To thine, and mine! 



The sun will set upon a world of splendor 

Such as never before has been seen. 

The rivers broad, will laden be 

With crafts of every sort and sheen. 

The lights will blaze along the streets, 

The bands will play, with vigor, 

And with hearts so free. The world will cheer, 

And cheer, and all put forth their songs of glee, 

As a tribute to the men of early years, 

Whom so little glory then did see. 

They were scoffed at, and reviled, 

Were their efforts, to broaden out 

The fields of travel and of view. 

They suffered hunger, and the critics' 

Sharpest points, were aimed directly 

At their hearts so true. 

But now comes honor and this grand review. 

249 



And their souls may well rejoice, 
From their higher view. 

The Aerial Club have a wide expanse to travel, 

And a host of worlds to explore. 

The beauty and wonders of the like 

Have never been heard of before. 

So they must make haste to perfect 

Their ships, and explore. 

Let them watch the birds, 

For a small, small thing, 

That will enable them to rise, and wing. 

To soar or to drop, for one foot or ten, 

It will be all the same to them. 

To sail straight on, and out, or up 

They must study carefully, 

The smaller things of wings. 

Good luck to you all, my friends 

Of the latest and finest 

Of all modern things. 

God gave us all a part to play 
Before the world's wide eyes. 
Not perhaps in just the way 
That we would deem the best, 
To show our talents to those eyes. 
But He, whose wisdom 
Far exceeds the skies, 
Knows best! 



250 



So count not out the smallest part, 
For it may lead direct 
To the heart of hearts. 
For in my small part, 
I believe God to be 

The heart of hearts ! 



Soft and long, soft and long, 

Come the words of the whispering song. 

Trilling along on the wings of the morn. 

Whispering words of loving cheer, 

Bringing messages from far and near, 

All on the wings of the morn. 

Soft and long, soft and long, 

Are their carols of song, 

These whispering winds of the early morn! 

Soft and long, soft and long, 

With the first stroke of day, 

They whisper their way, 

To the heart of the one, tuned 

So that on its strings they can play, 

These whispering winds of the early morn. 

Soft and long, soft and long, 

Whispering the notes of a great, 

Grand melody of song. 

To carry one's soul along 

To the portals of God's most magnificent throne, 

These whispering winds of the early morn. 

Soft and long, soft and long, 

Are their calls to the sleeping throng, 

To inspire them to words 

251 



Of God's beauty, and song, 

These whispering winds of the early morn. 



Heat, heat, go away! 

Thou must not stay so long. 

But give place to a cooling breeze, 

Which will carry us along 

To the Autumn days 

Of falling leaves, and song. 

Never mind, my love, 

Your time will come 

To do your work 

In rhyme and song. 

So do not haste thee, 

But saunter, all the way along. 

I would that I can stand upon a snowy peak 
And wrap myself in the fleeing clouds 
To shut out all this oppressive heat, 

And noise about. 
I then could stand upon a higher plane, 
And my thoughts would go to God. 

Rejoice, my soul, My heart sing out for joy ! 
My King is coming on the wings of love. 
To bring me sweet assurance of loyalty, 
From all my subjects, far and wide. 



252 



So sing out my soul ! Sing out for joy, 
My King is coming from on high, 
With all the messages of love and light, 
To lead my soul to perfect sight. 

All honor is due to thee ! 
Thou brave men, who battled 

So valiantly 
Against all thy foes. 
Thou hast conquered, 
And at last the honor 

Is for thee ! 

The day is a fine forerunner of Fall, 
Of the glorious, free high winds, 
In the trees so tall. 

Of the snapping, bracing air, 
Of the walks in the wood, all bare 
And brown, with the crunch of the leaves, 
As our steps go on, and on, and around, 
To catch the last bright leaf, 
In its scarlet coat of the wind's bright song. 
So with love and good cheer, 
We hail thee, thou glorious Autumn morn! 

Come, come, Cheer? Must I go after thee? 
And drag, with all my powers of thought, 
To bring thee to my love of heart? 
Stay not, friend Cheer, but come 

From love of thine own heart I 

253 



Flow on, thou current of thought, 
Into channels broad and wide. 
And let nought but the good abide. 

Flutter, flutter, O so gay! 
So these people are whirling 
All their life away. 

Alas, where will we find a friend, 

Of purity of thought, 

Or at least with just a kindly thought! 

People, mostly, are a selfish lot, 

Ever looking for some gain, 

Or to use us for their pleasure, 

Giving us, no matter how much pain 

But if we do perchance 

Find a friend of pure unselfish heart, 

God help us to cherish it, 

And to do our part! 

Coming, O my Love, in answer to thy call. 
Coming on the wings of Love, 
Eager are my eyes, my Love, 
Searching all along the way 
For the first, sweet, far-distant 
Echo, of thee, My Love, so gay. 

Gray and overcast, the day, my thoughts 
Are sad, and wander far away, 
To distant friends in other lands. 
254 



I wonder if my thought will carry straight, 

To bring me back a sweet return 

Of loving grace, that they 

May in their turn send out to me, 

Their friend across the sea. 

My mind is stayed upon a restful clime. 
I am in full command of all my lands. 
They are provided for the Winter's feast 
Of snow and ice, as the cold increase. 
I pray we may have a winter of peace 
And cares go far into space; 
So that we may learn of our Maker's grace 
In this winter of Thanksgiving mirth 

And Christmas birth! 

Sight! O that we were all gifted 

With a keener sight! 

A command of the voices of God in the night. 

We all might glean of the truths that fly, 

The beautiful thoughts that come in the 

night. 
To all who are gifted with a keener sight. 

The River of Life runs steadily on its course, 
Never heeding the storm or strife, 
It runs so smoothly on, with its life. 
We treat it with all contempt. 
We neglect it to the last long extent, 
And still it runs on, with its life! 
But some day it meets a barrier 
255 



Too high for its course, 

And the River of Life is spent I 

Darling, tell me of thy love! 

Is it very, very deep, 

And are you growing, not to sleep, 

But to dream only of thy love? 

Or is it just a passing fancy 

That will wing itself out, like a dove? 

O thou Sea! How free are thy waves! 
They dash and break, and roll and roar, 
And are as calm and smooth as glass — 
But yet they obey a rule, 
As sure as the morn and night. 

Glory, glory be to God on High, 

All his Angels sing. 

Glory, Glory be to God ! 

Is their never waning theme. 

Come, come, dear one, 

You must enlivened be ! 

You are not to give way 

To the " Bad Old Man of the Sea." 

For he is as bad, 

As he can be! 

My soul is sighing for a clearer way, 
A straighter path of even growth, 
256 



With no steps or stones to mar the way. 
Only a long green stretch of grass 
Where my tired spirit could refreshed be. 
O my God, I pray thee, show me such a path ! 

Darling, darling baby, come to me, 
And let me soothe the cares away. 
Let me draw thee to my breast, 
And whisper love, and rest! 

My love, I wish we were together 

In the same ecstatic plane, so that we 

Could wander at our will, 

With no distracting influence near. 

We could create some fine high thoughts 

To send forth in song and strain of beauty 

So divine, that all would take into their souls 

The glory of their God, and live with him. 

My heart is nigh to breaking 
For all my hopes are dashed to death. 
My heart, be still! Peace, peace! 
Or I shall wish thee ne'er another beat 

To make for me ! 

There was a beautiful star 
In the high, high heavens above. 
It shone with such a pure white light 
And so steady a gleam, 
That it entered the hearts of men, 
257 



To guide and guard them in their dreams ; 
Dreams of fame, of fortune, love and name. 



Loving, loving, all the day! 

Loving, loving, all the way! 

So we go, my love and I, 

Into the coming of the perfect day, 

When we shall be all enthroned with Thee 

In Thy love on high. 

Our lives are one great struggle 

To be in the line. 

But if we could only know 

The bliss of standing out alone 

Free and to ourselves, 

We would haste us far 

From all confining of our souls. 

Lines? What are lines? 
The less the better! 
Short but to the point ! 

There was a pearl of greatest price, 

Set in a star of dazzling light, 

In which the pearl very modestly shrank from 

sight. 
But the pearl had a sheen, 
And such a pure, silvery light, 
That the dazzling star could not hide it from 

sight. 

258 



Sweet be thy dreams, and God be with thee 

ever! 
Through the long night hours, 
Hours when the fancies roam afar, 
To seek the most distant star, 
Or trail along the ground, to hunt out the snares 
That impede us all the day along. 
Whiche'er it be, may God's blessing always rest 

With thee ! 

Good night, my Love, and may thy dreams 
Be on the wings of love and light, 
My Love, 

Good Night! 

Drowsing along a country road, 

I dream sweet dreams of thee. 

Dreams in which thou art enthroned 

Among the roses of the earth, 

High and free. To spread thy perfume 

At thy will. Alas, my love, 

They are as yet but dreams. 

Dreams that will soon glide 

Into fine, high realities. 

The roads that lead to the finest views 
Are never smooth, or easy to travel. 

Fraught with sighs are all our lives 
But here and there runs a streak so fair 
That the world forgets its sighs. 
259 



Heart, heart, do not bother me so! 
I wish you would go right on, 
With never a look to the right or left 
And none of this jumping up and down. 
But you are such a susceptible thing, 
Always fluttering so, and causing me 

No end of woe! 

Living by the water, you will gain new life 
To carry you through the coming strife. 
But never fear, you will stand at the topmost 

step 
Amid the things you most love best. 

I will wander far to-day, 

My soul shall soar on high, 

To catch the thoughts of love sent out 

For such as I. 

Tide, tide, in its ceaseless coming in, 

And going out, how like are we, poor mortals 

Only most of us leave less of a mark. 

The day is fair and clear, 
With a sky so blue, of azure hue 
That I am tempted far to roam 
In the woods and by the lake, 

To dream of Home! 



260 



Such exquisite clouds of fleecy whiteness, 

With just a rim of gold, 

Are floating all above me, 

In a sky of opal tint and glow. 

And I can only wonder if the tones 

Are oft reflected in our lives. 



We are moved to higher thoughts of life, 

To deeds of kindness, and not of strife. 

To loving all our fellow men, 

Which requires more of strength of will 

Than the ordinary heart can lend, 

Without the never-failing stimulus 

Of God's most perfect harmonizing 

Of earth, and sky and sea, 

And all things that, created He. 

The day is one of God's most perfect part, 
The air is clear, the sky so blue, 
It fairly radiates to all its heavenly hue. 
The shadows fall in brightest spots of green, 
As I ne'er have seen. Giving all 
The glowing teen. Putting our souls in har- 
mony 
Of thought, and love, and peace serene. 
So that we may bless our God, 
For all his gifts of light and love; 
And bend our knee to Him in adoration 

And in love 



261 



I would that I could see the distant veil 

Of cloud, lifted high, so that I 

Could pierce the future, and see with just mine 

eyes, 
The wonders and the beauties of the skies. 
I would do for all mankind, in perfect love 
And care, and help them on to the glory 
It is theirs to share. 

We all shall wander by the lake, 

In the moon's soft glimmering light. 

And perchance shall take a flight 

Far out into the night, 

On the water so soft and light. 

Then will come the thoughts 

Of inspiration so high and bright 

That will take us home to light. 

To light of all things right! 

The Muse of Love is always on the wing 
To alight where'er she may. 

O to create something that would for all time 

stand 
A pillar straight and high. 

Straight with the everlasting truth! 

To Mrs. Day:— 

A very fine high soul, who some day 
Will awake to command. 
262 



Awake to the latent powers within 

And grasp the higher thoughts of God; 

And then will come the reward 

Of all who dwell with Him. 

Unselfishness pays better than any other invest- 
ment. 

Doing good for good's sake, brings an ever- 
lasting reward. 

I sigh for a spot among the trees, 

I know just the dearest nook. 

The road dips so deeply, but lower still 

The Brook runs on, and thickest green 

Surrounds the path between. 

So I will away, to dream of thee, 

Within its shade so free. 



The leaden light of night is coming on apace. 
The dull gray light of storm. 
The ocean waves are cold, and rolling in 
So strong, break high, in thundering waves 
Of storm ! The lightning's vivid streaks 
Are glancing here and there, the thunder 
Booming out its song; and soon will come 
The torrents of the storm, refreshing 
All the earth within its bounds. 

Passion! The word awakening 
Such exquisite thrills of creative power, 
263 



If rightly used, can be productive 

Of endless good to the soul, 

Instead of degrading the body, as is now 

The practice of so many. 

O that the world would awake 

To the God within them, and use it 

To their higher development. 

Come, be gay, and help to brighten out 

The city's festive scene. 

Each soul but tends to swell 

The honor to the now unseen. 

So come and join the throng, 

And add your voices 

To the great and gladsome song 

O my love, come to me ! 

In the twilight's darkening shade 

When the shadows fall so gently 

Over all the space. 

We will wander through the gardens 

Of love, and drink deeply of the springs, 

Springs of love and joy. 

So come, my love, 

Come in the softly mellowing light, 

And love, love, love! 

O come and we will breast the ocean's waves 
Together, love. It will give new life 
To all our hopes, so great and high. 
We will lose this dull inertia and gain 
264 



New courage, to brave all our trials ; 

Trials that come to one and all; 

So come, my love, and not delay, 

For now the tide is high, and full of life 

Of which we will imbibe, in every little cell ; 

So come, come, my love, away, 

While the tide is high! 

The noon of life is one in which to grasp 
Every golden opportunity, for it is the last 
In which they are presented. After that 
They cease to be golden, and may only be 

grasped 
By very arduous labor and travail of soul. 

May God's blessing always rest with you, 
And may your soul in its last flight 
Wing its way to HIM, in perfect peace, 

Truth and light! 

Love, O my Love, wilt thou not come 
And answer to my call, my call of love? 
And all my world shall shine, 
If thou but send me just a word of thine. 

To the lulling of the wind 
Among the tree-tops, 

Soars my soul on high! 



265 



The day dawns bright and clear, 
I am full of hope and cheer, 
Hopes that long have lain 
Softly covered with a cloud, 

I will guide and guard you always 
In all your paths. 

Paths of roses they will be! 

Weeds are to all good purposes, serving to 
Accentuate the beauty of the flowers. 

Sing sweetly, O my precious bird! 
Sing, oh sing to me, 

Of thy love and purity. 
Warble forth thy songs to all the world, 
For the gilded cage 

Will not hold thee! 



Oft I hear the faintest note 
Of a chord of music, so divine, 
That I start, and listen, 

Listen, for the coming strain! 

God's will be my will, God's way be my way, so 
That in his love I may abide. 

Dear, you are so highly attuned, I fear 
You often reflect many inharmonious things. 

266 



Purity is like unto nothing else. There is 
absolutely nothing to compare with purity of 
thought and deed. 

Loving, loving, all the day, 
Naught else counts to me. 

The finest of all sentiments is love, 
Transforming a waste into a glorious green. 

Woman is an exquisite theme 
On which to play. 

I see a beautiful star, 

Away in the dim, dim distance. 

Away, away with dull care, 
And let us take a day so free. 

I wonder where my love is staying 

All these days. 
I miss his bright and happy face 
And all his dear caressing ways. 

But alas we often forfeit 
What is most in heart, 
By our eager grasp for gain — 
And in so doing, all the beauty 

Of the soul is lost. 
267 



I will wander by the brook, 
Where the wild flowers grow 

So sweet and lowly. 
And the birds are wont to gather 
For their songs of love. 

I will wander by the brook, 
In the evening's silent shade, 
Where all is rest, and peace, 

And love. 

The world moves on in regal splendor of in- 
vention, none more marvelous than the latest. 

It will bring all nations into one, cutting all 
the length of travel into space so small, that 
immediately will begin a search for other worlds, 
which will be rewarded by a find of such things 
of wonder, as never have been dreamed of. 



You can see the radiance of a Godlike soul, 
miles away. 

I love to wander so slowly 
Among the rare old works of art, 
To drink in each beauty 

Of touch and part. 
It takes my soul to the Creator's heart. 
I know his every hope and despair, 
His joy and his heart are everywhere. 



268 



Words mean all, or nothing. A word has 
often changed the course of an entire life. 

Song, song, how it carries us along, 
On its harmonious flight. 

Poppies are the essence 

Of all languor's beauty. 

Apropos of what you call fate, two roads 
are mapped out for each soul: one leading to 
higher developments, the other, the lower road, 
which often looks very inviting with its cool 
shade, but ending in nothing, absolutely nothing 
— and I am sorry to say that many choose the 
lower road. 

This proves the faith of the saying : " There 
is good in every soul." It is entirely of our 
own, to make or mar. 

I never saw a greater charm than now, 
In all the country 'round about. 
The grass was never quite so green 
Or the flowers so profuse. They seem 
To have already caught the spirit 

Of the coming dawn! 

Violets, to me, are the daintiest little things, 
growing down so near to earth, yet absorbing 
all the beauty and color of the sky. 
269 



The birds are not more full of song, 

Than you, my dear. 
And some day you will charm the ear, 

Of all who hear. 
Charming, charming, all their care away, 
By the swaying of your voice, 

So dear. 



Oh the beauty of sailing 

Through the air! 
Cutting space like mist. 



Oh the grandeur of the views 
On our travels, far and wide! 



Some day, not far hence, we will travel all 
above the earth and sky, with the ease of birds, 
flying at our will. 

There is a land of such amazing bliss, 

The soul can never die. 

But on, and on, to perfect harmony, 

In earth and heaven above. 

There no sorrow walks hand in hand with joy, 
All is perfect peace, and love and bliss. 

On a summer night, 
The warm wind blowing off the sea, 
270 



How my thoughts will wander off to thee! 
Wander to thy soul, my love, 

And to thy purity! 
Dost thou catch them in their flight, 
Across the waters wide? Dost thou caress 
Them in thy soul, imparting of thy life? 
I am so sure of their return, ladened 
With thy love and light, 
That here I sit, hand in hand, 

With night! 

Oh my baby darling! Did you hurt yourself? 
It is ever so. All explorers have their griefs. 

The time is drawing nigh 

When I shall see my wildest hopes 

Fulfilled. 

The sunshine of a soul so steeped in God's 
perfume, that it permeates every corner of its 
dwelling, is a blessing to be greatly desired. 

Darling, think of me, 

Every little while, 
And I will rest you, 

In my arms of love. 

My soul has always longed to soar 

In song, 
And now I shall fly so high, that I 
Can listen to the angels' song of God 

On high. 
271 



The day is warm and bright 
And my love must not delay. 
Haste thee to thy tasks inscribed 
On the tablet for to-day. 

I will sing songs of love to thee, 

So low and sweet, so long and strong, 

That you will leave your land, 

And come to me. 

The night is here with its cooling breeze, and 
we are again refreshed after a season of heat, 
and intense atmosphere. 

Exquisite! So are you my darling! 
Exquisite in every shade, tone and texture! 

Go, my love, and wander 

Where thy impulse prompts thee to. 

You will find a blessing far beyond 

Your wildest hopes. 

The birds are singing 
Oh, so sweetly, 

In the early dawn. 
When the life is full of sweetness, 

And of song. 

Loving thoughts, my friends, spread like fire, 
taking in everyone and everything, on its way; 
2.72 



so do not be afraid to scatter them at will — 
they consume the evil and the good. 

Please put me to sleep, darling, 
I am so very tired. 

Rock me in thy loving arms, darling, 
As if I were a child. 

Every leaf and stone, 

And the swaying of the wind, 

Suggests a poem. 

I never could understand the indifference 
with which people receive the blessings poured 
upon them. 

Loving, loving, seems to be my theme, 
There are so many melodies to work out 

From it! 

Pink is a color inspiring perfect harmony of 
thought. It will put a whole roomful of inhar- 
monious people in a dreamy state. 

Try it! 

Tune your hearts so that God can play upon 
the strings, and the music will be divine, cre- 
ating a perfect harmony of life, peace and love. 



273 



A poem of color, so faint, 
As to be hardly perceptible. 

Flutter, flutter, flutter, 
Butterfly so gay, 
Sipping here and there, 
Taking all the sweetness, 



Far away. 



Haste thee, for thy life is short, 

Thou must not linger long, 

For the day will soon be done — 

And then thou must depart, 

To give place to other butterflies, 

Of art. 

The morning sun is breaking 
Through the clouds of night. 

So with all our lives. 
There must be a rising of our sun, 

After a dark, dark night. 

Thou art so rugged, yet be careful of a blow, 

Thou wilt be tried, ah, sorely tried, 

E'en that thy heart will nearly break. 

But put thy faith upon thy God, and all else 

Will count as nought. 
Thy best beloved son is not destined to be 
A man of rugged growth, and free ; but yet 
His soul will soar to heights unknown, 

And astonishing, beyond degree. 
274 



There is a little stile, 

Beyond a garden gate — 

Where I love to while away the hours, 

With my sister (?) Kate. 

I have so many sisters in this land of love, 

I wonder if they'll all remember me, above. 

TRUTH. 

There is a solemn truth that all must know. 
The difference between right and wrong is so 
slight, the finest hair divides the two, and each 
travels side by side, with every soul. 

On each decision rests the final goal, so, one 
and all, mark you well the smallest choice. 

Woman! Who, or what language, is wide 
enough to express her? 

To W. J. O. : 

Onward, ever onward, 
So thy march must be ! 
Till thou hast gained 

The heights of victory. 

It is well to rest the eternal strife for gain, 
for in so doing, we often find ourselves. 

The tide has turned, and is coming in, 
Bringing such a fine haul of fish 
275 



So fair and fat, as to bring joy 

To the heart of the weary fisherman. 

The pathway of life is studded with nails; 
some to be carefully hammered down by 
friends : others stand with boldness, to enter the 
hearts of men. 



Dear little butterfly! Fluttering, fluttering 
around so gaily. Take all the joy thou canst; 
thy time is so pitifully short. 

Light? You have had much light poured 
upon you, my friend, but it, as yet, has not 
pierced the innermost. When it does, you will 
understand the meaning of Light! 

Soul of my soul, where art thou now? 
I fain would walk with thee 

In the Garden of the Gods. 



Canst thou not hear me, 
When I plead with thee, 

To come and leave all else for me? 



Thy gain thou canst not measure 
If thou wouldst walk with me. 



2y6 



Oh soul of my soul, why art thou so blind 
To the beauties of God so divine, 
Come, come, my soul, break all thy fetters 

For me ! 

The waves are lapping softly 

On the shore 

But later they will rise in might 

And rushing swiftly on, 

Will break in mountains 

Of exquisite foam. 

Funny, funny things, are coming o'er the sea, 
Bringing tales of wonder! 

Whatever can they be? 
They look not just like anything 
That I have ever seen — 
But are such queer, wide-spreading things! 

Oh, I have it now ! 
They are airships sailing on so fine, 
In this wonder-working age of thine ! 

The way was long, and the night was dark, 

But I had my task to do. 

It is done, and I am free ! Free ! 

Do not allow your mind 
To be controlled by all 
Who come and go — but 
Stand up in thy strength 
ALONE! 
277 



The Beauty of Loving 

the 

Lowly and Dozvntrodden 

is 

Like a Welling up of Clear Water 

to the 

SOUL. 



The poetry of thought stamps itself ineffably 
on one's surroundings. 

The world is in a grand stage of develop- 
ment; a spiritual awakening of such stupendous 
growth, that the very atmosphere will be puri- 
fied with the flood of pure thought. 



Smiles are reflections of God's love, wrapping 
all in a mist of finest gauze, which veils, but does 
not hide^ 



Come, my Daughter, 

and 

we will walk in the Garden of 

GOD 

and pluck of the flowers 

that grow 

beside all its 

Paths. 



278 



Kicking, always kicking, 
Is my baby boy so dear — 
Such a clever little rascal, 
He will surely make a name, 
From sheer force, 

Of " kicking " into fame ! 

Dogs are such beautiful companions, sharing 
all our sorrows and joys; so wistful when we 
are sad, and so appreciative of a frolic and run ; 
faithfully watching all our cares (for possessions 
are cares) and never intruding upon us when 
we wish to be silent and free. 



I fain a line would write, 
Of many, many things — 
Of so wonderful a clime, 
And grandeur, and such bliss, 
That the language we possess, 
Is scarce wide enough to express. 



Charity. What is charity? The giving of 
what we do not desire ourselves ! 



Gold and silver, naught have I 
But of love and truth, 

A never ending supply. 



279 



The opal's most exquisite fire 
Takes one back to centuries 

O'er the sea, 
To the land of mystery. 

What more have I? Have I not fought 
Through this, in the days that are past 

And gone? 

The simplest truths are the greatest, 

Which applies also to souls. 

Everything is taking on new life. A silent 
force, so strong and wide, is pervading all the 
land — a force, so all-inclusive, that the small- 
est atom will imbibe its life. 

A very dear little Inn, situated on a fine ex- 
panse of green, is such a welcome sight to a 
weary traveler; so truth and love are to the 
weary soul, wearied with the everlasting fight. 

the beauty of the clouds! 

The swiftly changing scenes ! 

Did you ever try to picture, 

All they possibly could mean? 

O! my love is like a fair Greek God. 

1 would that his soul expand, 

To the light of day. 
280 



He does not realize the heights he might attain, 
If he but throw his shams away. 

I pray his God will awake the soul 
That has lain in rest so long, 

And teach it how to fly. 
I know that my prayer will be answered some 

day, 
If not in this plane, then in the next. 

'Twas all on a summer morn. 

Just this way: 

I was cantering along 

On my horse of bay: 

She was strolling o'er the fields, 

As gay and happy as the day was long. 

But need I tell the rest? 

Now on earth there was a flower, 
Of beauty rare and rich 
But so lowly in its growth, 
And so modest in its mien 
That few discerned the beauty 

Of its perfume, 
Hidden there so deep. 

You are destined to be, 
Such a light of love to me, 
And all the land. 
That none will say a word 

Of aught but praise of thee. 
281 



My love is always with me 

In my dreamy state, 
Then I seem to see so clearly, 

All the things of fate. 

Oh you darling, blessed baby, 
How I love your soul ! 
It is so filled with purity and grace, 
That the angels do extol. 

The birds are all of a quiver, 
The leaves are all dancing with joy, 
For my love is coming, 

Coming to me! 

There was a little girl, 
That I once knew. 
She never would be satisfied 
Till all the fairy tales 

Came true! 



Swaying, swaying, swaying, 
So is all our life, 
First in one direction, 
Then slightly to another. 
Swaying, swaying, swaying, 

So is all our life! 



2&2 



Fight, oh fight, my soul, 

But on the plane of honesty, 

And truth! 

For you, my love is burning, 
Burning all away! 
For you will not listen 
To anything I have to say. 

Joy, just Joy! 

Joyous be thy song on high, 
For the Lord is coming to His own 
To bestow a blessing, such as 
Never has been known. 

Ring all the bells of joy, 

For the Lord is coming to His own. 

Oh my darling, you are far, far 

On the long White Road, 

And soon will come to the rest, 

Within the Gates. 

Birds fluttering so gracefully, 
Singing so madly, but oh, so sweetly, 
Teach us a fine lesson, 
To be grateful for small things. 
They add so much to the beauty and song of 
Life. 

283 



Ofttimes I am aweary 

Of all the pomp of life; 

And then I send my soul to God, 

For refreshing light. 

In the shimmering moonlight, 
When all is bathed in silver, 
Then the fairies come 
From every dell and dale, 
All to gather for a revel, 
Of their dance and song. 
Oh that we were as full 
Of such sweet, sweet song, 
And gay and happy mirth! 

Oh my darling, with thy blessing, 
I will walk the path with thee, 
Ever praying, never ceasing, 

To be true to thee. 



I wonder what is coming in the morning? 
In the morning when the golden dawn 
Is breaking in the eastern sky. 
When the air is fresh and clear, and I 
Can soar on high, to get the thoughts 

From Heaven, as they fly. 

Chains of Love are more binding 

Than the strongest fetters. 



284 



I am so grieved that thou shouldst suffer so, 

My own! 
I would that I could carry all thy sorrows 

Far away, 
So that they could ne'er return, but alas, 

My Own ! 
We all have our pages, so to turn. 

Man is a melody divine, or a very inharmoni- 
ous creation. 

I am coming to the turning of the ways 
When my soul shall either mount on high 

Or be debased. 



I shall always live so close to light and truth, 
that it will be impossible for anything to obscure 
my view. 

There is only one way of gaining Heaven, and 
that is a very simple one — so simple, that many 
would not pause to listen or take heed. 

Loving all our fellow men covers everything, 
for where true love, for love's sake is, all else 
follows. 

There are shores and shores of joy, that the 
soul, weary of its present strife, may gain in per- 
fect ease, if he but keep his eyes on God. 



28s 



I feel so broken, and so bowed, 
My head can scarce hold high. 
O why was this sent to me now? 
Now, when all things are coming nigh ! 

But I must hold my faith in God, 
His wisdom, and His love. 
It cannot fail me now: so I must stand, 
Erect and firm, and not be bowed. 

The clouds are rolling swiftly by, 
The sun is breaking through, 
O such a glorious sun, 
Of light and truth! 

The grand, majestic trees, in the Forest of the 
Lord, are coming now to all their beauteous ver- 
dure, brightest green, and deepest shade. 

We shall all be bathed in 
Qlorious Sunshine 

in 

The Coming Day, 

And the birds will sing their blessing 

in 

A Bright and Happy Lay. 

Joy go with thee evermore! 
Blessed be thy name. 
Thou hast rendered such a service 
286 



As will make thy name 
One of love and honor, 
Evermore ! 

Love is a most exasperating thing, 
One never knows next what it will bring, 
Sorrow, or joy. 

Thou hast caught the thoughts so well, 
Sent to thee from God, 
That the world will love thee, 
For thy love of them. 

My soul is struggling 
With the problem of truth 
And right. 

But I have no fears 
As to the ultimate outcome 
Of the fight. 

O give thanks to God for His gifts to men. 
They are fine, and wide, and without end, 
Amen. 

O give thanks and praise the Lord 
By doing deeds of kindness in His word. 
Praise, praise the Lord, 
Amen. 

287 



Give thanks O my soul, for thy gifts 
Of love and cheer. 
They have brought thee to this 
Another Thanksgiving year. 
O my soul, send out a prayer 
For the thousands who dwell 
Not so much in the light and cheer 
Of this coming Thanksgiving year. 
And when thou hast finished thy prayer 
Sing forth a song of praise to thy God 
For his care. 

Rise my soul and sing of all the wonders of thy 

God, 
He who in his mercy watches both the great 

and small. 
He whose glory fills the earth and sky, 
Sing, I pray thee, to Him, on high. Forget not 
One Moment that thy God is nigh. 
Bend thy knee to him, in humble attitude of 

prayer 
And there thou shalt find thy greatest glory, 
Oh my soul, of thy God on high. 

There will come a stranger to dwell within thy 

midst, 
A soul of wondrous beauty, and O so fair. 
He will impart to thee of his finest gifts. 
His love will gently lift thee to thy proper 

sphere, 



288 



And in harmony of thought, and crowned, thou 

shalt dwell 
In a land far from this present rush and strife; 
And in thy hand thou shalt wield a sceptre of 

might, 

To bring forth truth, and light! 

Vague, wide fears run through my mind, 

O charm them away I pray thee. 

With a note so fine, that they ne'er shall return 

For fears are deathly messengers, 

Sent out to blight our hopes, by those 

Who see not God's love in a rose. 

I have learned since my higher life 
That simplicity and purity of thought 
Take one to the entire height, depth 
And infinity of space, encompassing 
The whole. There is no need 
Of long learned treatises of subjects, 
The highest, holiest and most sublime 
And the mysteries of all climes 
Are reached by absolute simplicity. 

There is a star so bright and clear, 
It sheds its light on a lonely sphere, 
Waiting for people to inhabit its parts ; 
And some day thou shalt see it filled 
With the most glorious arts. 
That star is guiding some souls to it now 
But they are slow to explore. The spirit 
289 



Of rest and ease holds sway, with those 

Who had better by far, 

Be up and pushing their way to the star. 

The numbers of purity are three and five, 
Seven carries a charm for all who prescribe 
And inscribe. One, two and four, six, eight 
And ten, are all in the everyday trend. 

O my giddy thing! All on pleasure bent. 
Stop thee for one moment, and think 
Is life to be spent only on pleasure bent? 

Sing little bird, thy sweet, sweet song. 
Thy notes are clear, and thou dost trill 
Them forth from early dawn. 
Let not the slightest shadow quell thy song. 
Sing, little bird, thy sweet, sweet song. 

Weary, weary art thou love? 
Come to me and I will rest thee in my arms. 
My home shall be always a shield 
From the world's hard light. Always a place 
To nestle to my heart's delight. 
So when thou art weary, my love, 
Come to me. 

Rest thy heart, my weary one, 
Peace, peace, is now to come. 
Thou shalt be all enthroned 
290 



In a bower of love, such as thy soul 
Has always desired from above. 
So peace, peace, my soul. 
Rest, thou weary one! 

I know a little boy 

Who dreams half his life away. 

Every hour he dreams, 

He has so much less to play. 

But that does not hinder him 

From dreaming all the day. 

I have dwelt to-day in a heavenly sphere 

Full of harmony and love divine. 

Where the birds all sing, and none are dumb 

But all to their Maker wing. 

There the flowers never cease to bloom, 

For the waters of God's eternal fountains 

Spray upon them all the time. 

The fruits are luscious, and grow 

So wildly riotous, in their glorious masses 

Of tone, that one would not hesitate to offer 

them 
Before God's very Throne. 
These flowers and fruits that grow 
In a sphere of harmony and love; 
In which I have dwelt this day, 
It is a taste of the Life above. 

Thou art gazing on a world so full of light, 
That thou scarce can command thy forces aright. 
291 



Peace, my soul, thou hast conquered much. 
Cease thy fluttering and cast thy net 
Just where thou knowest it is best. 

Sweetheart, what of the way? 

Are you travelling on our path so gay? 

Or are you on a silent path wending your way, 

With never a look to the right or left, 

Just on your way ! 

Come, darling, are you thinking of me? 
Are you dreaming of the days that should be? 
O that our lives were mingled in one grand song. 
O my darling, are you thinking and dreaming 
of me? 



Love me, darling, will you dear? 

So said a lover in this worldly sphere. 

He wooed by every token and song so dear. 

She? Why, she yielded, and now her heart is 

broken, 
A thing, O so drear. 

Thou must now break from all these hanging 

reeds. 
Drift them all on a sea apart from thee. 
Let them sail their bark quite independent of 

thee 
And thou must give thy time henceforth to me. 



292 



Methinks I see a calm appearing 
On the waves of the troubled sea. 
The waters will gradually subside 
Their fierce loud roll, and sink back 
Into a calm even tide. And then 
On its waves we can drift, 
Till we meet our staunch, good ship 
That will carry us home, I mean 
To our new home, o'er the waters wide. 

noble Roman, where is thy crown? 

At thy feet, my lady, I have laid it down. 
Thou shalt tread the path to victory, 
My lady, with my crown. And when 
Thou hast reached the dizzy heights 

1 will again resume my crown. 

And we shall dwell together, thou my Queen, 
With thine own crown. 

Sadness brings forth many virtues 
That otherwise would be crushed by the very 
joy of gladness. 

The skies have cleared, the earth will move 
In more her accustomed way. All things 
Will again resume their steady gait of cheer 
And occasionally a little gloom. Big schemes 
Will round out into certain lines 
Much desired by many minds. All things will 
take 

293 



A flying leap, and hearts will reap a measure of 

joy 
From the sorrows that have been so deep. 
The world will sing, and bells ring out with joy, 
For the air will be ladened with the glory 
Of God on High, bringing a message that His 

love 

Shall never die. 

There comes a note from o'er the hills 

With a message hidden deep. 

Only those who have lived with God 

Can carry it quite complete. 

To them it brings a promise rare and bright 

That their souls henceforth may sing 

The beauties and glories of God, their King. 

It promises a life of rapture and joy, 

A never-ending supply of God's love 

And that their souls at last may drift 

Out into His arms above. 

Dear, dear, dear! If thou wouldst only be 

guided 
By God, not man. Thy paths would lead thee 
To where thou hast always wished them to end. 
Take thy guidance from God, and from him 

alone, 
And then thou wilt stand, where thou 
Canst pierce to the very Throne. But thou 
Dost heed the voice of man, with its soft 
Beguiling tone, and then thou hast only sorrow 
294 



For thine own : all because thou wilt not be 

guided 
By God alone. Dear, dear, dear! 

Pythagoras rode his steed, 

And a mighty steed had he. 

It has come through the ages 

Down, down to thee! 

His mantle has descended upon thy head, 

And thrice blessed thou shalt be 

If thou put forth the songs 

That he will give to thee. 

Not half so sweet as thine own soul, 
Which would embrace the world 
In its loving grasp. 

The wind and waves do call 
With a fierce wild sob of grief 
For the souls of those who lie beneath 
In their winding sheets. 
The wind and the waves do roar and roll 
Till they reach the shore, where they break 
To rush out once more, 

These winds that roar and these waves that roll. 
The wind and the waves they call once more 
So I must away to the shore 
And be clasped in their arms, to return no more. 
Then the wind and the waves will cease to call 
And will rest their roar and roll, when I 
Have taken my journey, their depths to explore ; 
295 



And from there my soul shall arise to greet its 

God, 
In its future home in the skies. 
Above these winds that roar and these waves 

that roll. 

What a striking thing is life. 

It seems all strife and struggle 

Even to gain our first breath; 

And so on, continues the strife. 

Some gain the better part, 

And a few, apparently all the art; 

But most of us have a bitter part 

In which to display our art. 

A poet pours forth all his heart, 

Be it sublime, or of lowly part; 

But to have lived in this world 

Is a privilege we all shall recall. 

Would that I had lived my best! 

Would that I had stood on the topmost step, 

And only looked upon the squalid wanderings 

Of the horde! O that I had lived more with 

my God! 
Then I would have caught from Angels 
All the higher chords. 

My life would have spun out into sunshine, 
Instead of deep dark ways of filth, and mire. 
O that I had talked with God! 

There has been but one reincarnated soul, 
That of Christ, and he, only for our sakes 
296 



Came He; so that we might have an example 

Of holy sacrifice, to set before our lives so free. 

To both great and small, black and white 

Came He. He lifted not his head in scorn, 

Nor drew his garments far from sin. 

Nay rather always mingled there within, 

To bring his holy light to shine, 

So that the sinners he could win. 

The lowly and the meek, they appealed to him; 

And think you his crucifixion was the only suf- 
fering 

He endured? His life on earth was one long 
torture. 

To have come from the highest space above, 

Where all is harmony, peace and love. 

Think you the finest soul that has ever existed 

On earth, was not in torture from his birth? 

I pray you pause in your greed for gain of gold. 

Was that sacrifice not sufficient 

To bring your hearts to his fold ? 

And remember that later, only the heart is told. 

A star was speeding on its way, 

When alas it met a comet, and the devil was to 

pay. 
But there emerged from the ruins, a world 
That is yet to be inhabited by men of clay. 
The air is rare, pure and clear, 
(Oh pshaw, but the devil is still to pay.) 
The devil is loose my dear, 
So beware of him, I pray, or he may gather thee 

in, 

297 



To dwell with him for a day. 

He is fair and fine to see, but I had rather 

He walked not with thee. He will approach 

thee 
With a snare and a smile, but beware, 
O I pray thee, beware of his artful smile 
And his snare. He will show thee a dish of 

most tempting fruit 
Of which, when thou hast eaten, will make thee 
The devil's own fruit, to be plucked and thrown 

away 
At will, or to be used as a decoy for other souls 

still. 
O my dear beware of the devil who roams at his 

will. 
He may promise thee fame, and a life with a 

name, 
Or wealth, health, but remember, 
Nothing but bitterness will be gained. 
There are men whom he plots for now. 
He has deluded them long, and they have made 
Wealth, name and fame; but in the end it will 

turn 
To bitterness and shame; so be thou not de- 
luded, 
But always remember that what thou hast 

earned, 

Thou hast gained! 

On the shore of time there is written a command 
That thou must always obey, be it night or day, 

298 



To carry out God's love in his own right way. 
If he comes in a still, small voice, 
In a song or a flower, in a wind or a storm, 
It is God, and Him thou must obey. 

From the wreck of thy ship 

That has sailed so free, 

Thou wilt see emerging the Holy Three. 

O my darling, let me take thee in mine arms 
And soothe thee off to rest, 
To dream of beauty, flowers and song, 
That will rest thee all the night long, 
O my darling let me soothe thee with my song. 
Soothe thy troubled heart and head 
With the thought that I will guard thee 
And that e'er another night shall claim thee 
For thy rest, thou wilt know 
That thy plans have worked out for thine own 
best. 



Rocking, gently rocking, 

As I sit beside the blazing lire. 

Thinking, O so deeply thinking 

Of the worlds I build in air. 

O the mighty deeds I do in fancy, 

All are written in the blazing logs. 

Dream, and dream and dream, 

Of my sorrows, and my joys, 

They alike are pictured in the blaze. 

. 299 



Wave a flag of victory, for thy fight is won. 
And on the morrow thou wilt hear such news 

of joy 
As will make thee feel a mighty one. 
So wave, wave the flag, thou victorious one. 
Thou hast made a gallant stand, 
And have scored thy points one by one, 
And now, for thee, the battle is won. 
O my brave, victorious son. 
Wave, wave thy flag, and raise it high, 
So that all may grasp its meaning, 
Thou bold, victorious one! 



May God's blessing always rest upon the tiny 
soul 

That soon will come to cradle within thine arms. 

May he ever be a source of comfort and joy, 
so free 

That thy soul shall expand till it only stand be- 
tween God and he. 



Old Man Dobson started for the town, 

A mile and a half from his farrm 

With his old horse Jane 

And his cart full of grain, 

To be exchanged for the wonderful things 

Of the town. It was nearing the Christmas 

time, 
And Old Man Dobson had a lot of things in 

mind. 



300 



To buy for his wife and his children; 
For his family was of old fashioned kind, 
And could be counted to nine. 



The day is long, the way is wide, 

I wish I might with thee abide, 

We could talk of the highest sight 

And of things that would be to us a delight. 

But each must work out their way, 

Alone, unaided, except by their sight. 



In the depths of the forest thy home should be, 
Where the summer winds blow from off the 

sea. 
There thy soul would find rest, and come forth 
To commune with thee. 



O that I had the power to paint thy life, 
It would glow with all the tones that are not 
of strife. 



I wish to thee a blessing on this Christmas time, 
One that will bring thee into God's most perfect 

clime. 
What more can I say or wish, for thee or thine. 

May God lead thee in His holy light, 
So that thou shalt see all things aright. 
301 



With a pure and perfect sight, 
So that thy days may all be bright. 

Thou hast many discouragements all along thy 

way, 
But a brave heart, and the doing of thy part, 
Will bring thee finally to the highest of thine 

art. 



Thou hast answered to the vibrations of the 
highest 

Of all. Thou wilt henceforth lead a life de- 
voted 

To the works of thy God; that is, the best in 
thyself 

Wilt come to the fore, and thou shalt stand 

As firm as a rock, with thine own forces 

To work for thee, in every part; and this has 
come to thee, 

As a gift from God's Christmas Tree. 

How beautiful. are Thy ways, O Lord! 
Thy paths of peace, they offer me, 
Such sweet release from the grind 
Of the day's hard toil ; but to come to Thee 
At eventide, and let my soul abide, 
Brings rest and content, that, in no other place 
Can I find. O my Lord I shall always 
With Thee abide. 



302 



Many troubles thou hast had, but soon 

Thy feet will tread, where only those of Fame 

Have found the path that led to the dizzy 

heights, 
Where O my soul, thou soon shalt tread. 
And then thou canst in peace work out thy life, 
So that when thy soul shall mount on high, 
Thou shalt say, " I am satisfied." 



Dream not, my soul, thou shalt soon have much 

to do. 
Thy home will blossom out into a joyous spot. 
For kindred souls now far apart, will gather in 
And to thee will come with all their joys and 

arts. 



I pray for thee the blessing 
Thou in thy heart most desired of God. 
May it come to thee for this, 
Thy Christmas joy, and live ever 
In thy life, until thou shalt walk with God, 
Where there is no night ! 



Darts are flying here and there, 

O what wonders are flying through the air. 

No need to dig below the ground, 

When thou canst sail above in God's free air. 



303 



Gloom and silence reign. The noise is hushed 
Within, without — for our country is in mourn- 
ing 
For a soul that has gone out. 



Many Christmas joys be thine 

In the knowledge that thou hast given 

To the world of thy best. 

What more can be said, what greater test, 

Than to have given of thy best. 



May God's blessing rest upon thy head, 
To give thee strength and life 
Far, far ahead, so that many Christmas days 
Thou wilt see, until thy soul shall dwell 
With God, where all is peace, and love and har- 
mony. 



I pray that thine eyes may be opened 
To see the light of day. 
Not the shadowy haze that at present 
Obscures thy way; but God's light, 
That will lead thee to a most perfect way ; 
And this I pray will come to thee, 
On Christmas Day! 



304 



Thou hast thy Christmas joy right in thine arms 
With all his wealth of love untold. 
But the darling bud will unfold 
With the beauty and sweetness he has acquired 
From thine own soul. 

This night a soul whom thou knowest well 
Will pass from his earthly shell. 
When the clock strikes one, two, three, 
His breath will begin to diminish 
And then the end will be ! 

Upon a mountain top, high above the sea, 

There stands the figure of a man. 

His head is bowed upon his breast, 

And his thoughts are dwelling on thy plans, 

That thou hast made for thine, and thee. 

Troubled and sore he seems to be, 

For he sees some rocks ahead. 

If thou, with the utmost care, 

Doth not steer thy ship to sea. 

He cannot send thee a message, 

For thou wouldst not hear; but he stands 

And prays that God will direct thee, 

So that thou may steer thy ship safe to land. 

I am dumb and hushed to-night, 

For my heart is aching for my home across the 

sea. 
Where I know that for this Christmas time 
I cannot be. I will have to stay and wander 
305 



In this strange new land, with strangers 
All around on every hand. 
O what a lonesome time is this Christmas time 
For me; a stranger in a land 

Where there is no home for me. 

O my dear soul, I am sorry for thee. 

Thou hast a hard road to travel. 

But remember many Sisters have gone o'er it 

Before thee. I will give thee a rhyme 

That will fill thy soul with sunshine 

The very next time I go o'er the hills 

To the castle of rhymes and rills. 

So watch for my sign, when I again pass by, 

For I surely will have a rhyme 

That will make thee laugh all the time. 

Thou hast a path to tread, that at present 

Is hidden from thy sight; but I pray 

Ere another Christmas tide, thou wilt have 

found 
Thy path, that now to my eyes is very bright. 

Cheer, my friend, cheer, 
For the Christmas time is here, 
And thou must away with the bells so gay, 
To help Santa Claus on his rounds, 
To fill the children's hearts 
With lays and songs of praise. 
For Old Kris Kringle is growing old 
These days — and needs a bright, new hand 
To help him on his ways. 
306 



Cheer, my friend, be of cheer, 
And away with thy thoughts so drear, 
For this, the Christmas time, 
Is only for cheer ! 

I see a body enthroned in state. 
It is a king and a high prelate ; 
And around are gathered the mourners of fate. 
The calm stately magnificence of his surround- 
ings 
Do not permit of much display of love or hate 
But it is equally divided for the king 

Who lies in state. 
A woman walks with bowed head, 
Her heart is broken, her life is dead. 
She heeds not any of the passing time, 
Her thoughts are upon the man of state, 
Upon whom she can bring no claim that will 
have weight. 

But just the same she was his fate, 

And now she realizes when it is too late, 

The folly she has lived with ; 

And ere long her love will turn to hate. 

Then the serpent will be aroused, 

And she will sting with bitter fury, 

And then remorse will claim her 

For its own, and thus will end a chapter 

In the book of the throne, 

A chapter the book would rather not own. 



307 



Buried deep in the heart of a rose, 

Is the story I shall tell ; 

But not to-night, my friend, 

I love you far too well. 

For you might be torn by a thorn of the rose, 

In the heart of which my story grows. 



An Arab poet once predicted finest things of 

thee. 
So be true, and always aim thy highest work 

to do. 



There will be a band of mourners, 
Weeping o'er some clay; but the soul 
Is far, far away. If the eyes of the men 
Could but recognize the right of way, 
They would see their friend, and realize 
That he is not of clay. 



O that I had lived to my highest ideal. 

that I had drawn from the fount. 

1 could have left a name, a fame, 

And now all I have is my sorrow and shame. 

And yet I was not altogether to blame. 

But O my brother, make the most of thy time, 



308 



So that when thou hast finished thy task, 
Thou shalt be able to inscribe thy name, 
In the Great Book of Fame. 



T. G. B. 

A high pushing soul, yet very yielding, 

Very intent, and will learn the lesson slowly 

That he has not yet reached the fullest extent 

Of knowledge. Of his life he will make the 

highest, 
And be numbered among, the world's bright 

men; 
But in his love he is not destined 
To reap a bright harvest. His soul is true, 
Pine, and most loving : and will be hurt much, 
But he will rebound and make the most of things 

generally. 



J. N. B. 

A sensitive, loving little soul, 

Who is destined to much sorrow of heart, 

But withal, happy. His life will merge out 

Into wide fields of work, and he at all times 

Will bring many people to him, but fleeting, 

As he soon sees the real motives of most people 

That are connected with him. 



309 



My soul will soon take its way 

Across the narrow line 

That divides this world from thine. 

I shall meet thee in thy palace above, 

And thou shalt guide me 

To where there is naught but harmony and 

love. 
Dost thou hear me, O my Love? 
I am calling thee for aid 
To help me bear my lot. O my King ! 
What shall I do, now that you and I are apart. 
O dost thou hear me calling from my heart? 



I wonder what a little boy I know will do 

When he finds that Santa Claus 

Has gone astray, and has not sent him 

A single toy with which to play, 

On this coming Christmas Day. 

I fancy his eyes will widen, and then 

Grow bright with tears, that will well up 

In spite of his ten of years. 

For 'tis a sad, sad thing to be forgotten 

Among all this rush of life; 

But to have been missed by Santa Claus 

On his Christmas flight, with his toys 



310 



And things of delight, would be almost more 

Than a boy could bear; so I pray 

That I have not penned aright : and the little 

boy 
I know, will surely have one toy from Santa 

Claus 

In his Christmas flight. 

A spider's web is weaving, 

And soon he will invite the fly, 

To enter into his parlor, 

Do you know why? 

Dost thou remember the fate of the fly? 

Well, if I were that fly, 

I would collect a host and crush that web, 

But first I would be sure that the spider 

Was not nigh. He his fate will meet 

When things begin to fly. 

I would build a lattice if I were thee, 

And cover it with vines so that no one could 

see 
What I was doing with my fingers three. 
Td arrange a spot where I could form my plans 
For a campaign band of three. 
Not more, not less — but three. 
Myself and two I could trust so free. 
I would lay a snare with skill and care 
To bag a game that is not quite fair, 
But I would call it a hare. 



3ii 



Step by step, inch by inch, 
Thou hast gained thy ground, 
Until now thou stand upon a firm wide footing, 
With the heads that wear the crowns. 
Thou hast made thy life a success 
After years of toil and struggle, 
And now thou shalt wear thy crown 
And in thy first flush of exultant pride, 
Watch carefully the poor souls 
Who go down with the tide. 
Be ever ready to give them a hand, and per- 
chance 
They may regain their pride 
And still continue to strive 

For their higher stand ; and always remind them 
That step by step, and inch by inch, 
Thou didst gain thy stand ! 

Sing, sing, with joyous song, 

Gathered from the early morn, 

With all the freshness of the day's bright dawn. 

Sing, sing, a wild victorious song. 

For victory shall be thine 

In the morning's light divine. 

Thy voice will ring out with gladness, 

Thy head shall whirl with joy, 

For on the morrow thou shalt gain 

A million points of joy. 

But wait not until the morrow, 

Sing now thou thy songs of joy. 



312 



To-day has been a turning point with thee, 

But thou didst not know it 

And 'twas well for thee, for now 

Thy plans have carried, O so free. 

The paths henceforth shall take thee 

Far above the sea of troubled waters 

Upon which thy bark so long has travelled 

And of all thy cares thou shalt now be free, 

For on this day's turning 

Thy desires have been granted thee. 

Thou shalt soon be cast upon a wild sea of 

trouble 
And thy friends will desert of thee ; and thou 
Shalt be left alone to struggle with the wild, 

wild sea. 
But never despair, for in the calm that follows 
There will come a million of crowns for thee, 
So hold up thy head, and march straight ahead, 
For I will never desert of thee ! 

My tongue is silent and my head bowed low, 

Whence did come this blow? 

It has put me in a terror of fear, 

And I know not what next I shall hear. 

God, grant me peace and love divine, 

So that they shall not break this heart of mine. 

1 thought I had gone the rounds of weal and 

woe, 
But it seems I had another journey to go. 



313 



Me thinks I see a jewelled crown awaiting thee 
And I with mine own hands will work to place 

thee 
Where thou shouldst be. I will drive away all 

doubts 
And fears. Thou shalt reflect no more, 
The conditions of those surrounding thee, 
But stand forth stout of heart, and body free. 

A soul is hovering, with a fear to fly 
For the storm is wild and the tempest is high, 
But the soul need not fear, for it will fly 
Straight to God's loving cheer! 

There dwelt a maiden, all in a dream 

And O what a rude awakening I fear it will 

seem, 
When her castles which she has builded in 

dreams, 
All fall to pieces; and she has nothing 
But a bare bit of ground, not fit for a castle, 
No, not even a mound. 
She will start and eagerly look around 
But no sight half so pleasing 
As her castles of dreams, does she see, 
Her castles she had builded in air, 
But she thought them firm on a rock; 
And later will she realize 
That only her home was firm on a rock, 
And there dwelt within, a brave true heart. 



314 



Fate is rushing like a river, 
Cast thy bark upon the waters, 
And hesitate not to take to the stream. 
It will carry straight as a dart 
To the very heart of things. 

What an odd thing is life! Who can grasp it? 
One sigh and it is over; one heartache and it is 
gone. 

dearest soul, trouble not thy heart 

With all these vagaries, they are not of thy part. 

And not at all in thy art, 

So dearest, trouble not thy heart. 

All things will come to light, Thou canst not 

Change their course, not in the least little mite. 

So why trouble thy soul, when there is so much 

of love 
For thee, yet to be told. 

1 will watch over all thy cares 
And thy burdens I will bear, 

If thou wilt but put thy trust in me, 

So take only of the better part. 

Clear thy thoughts from all of such as these 

For thou hast higher work to do, 

And must not trouble thy soul, dear heart 

With messages about the untrue. 

A king once said to his son, if thou canst guess 
Three riddles 

I will make thee a ruler of kingdoms three. 
315 



And the son being wise, said never a word, 
No not he. Now what do you think were these 

riddles three? 
The first unlocks the gate, the second, the door 
And the third, thy fate. I shall leave thee to 

guess 

These riddles three. 

I have a rhyme for thee, sweetheart, 

A dear little rhyme which thou must write 

In thy heart, and sing it all the time. 

I wonder if I shall tell it to thee now, 

Or wait until some time when thou art alone, 

Which dost thou prefer, sweetheart? 

'Tis a riddle as well as a rhyme, 

That thou shouldst write in this heart of thine. 

Thou hast no need to fear, thou hast been 

tempted 
And shown thyself clear. Thou wilt only get 

what is true 
And nothing that will make thee rue; for thou 

art beloved 
By all fine souls, and only those of the highest 

planes 
Come to you. 

Poised, just ready to fly, 
Is the soul of one that fears to die. 
But once it has left this earthly shell, 
It will soar and soar, 

316 



And the best in that soul will come to the fore. 

It may be a day, it may be a week, 

It might be a month, before that soul 

Will have started on its way. 

The call will come in the day 

When the sun is high and fine, 

And the clock will have just struck nine. 

That is all that I now shall say. 

Life has many a heartache, many a bruised foot 
And many a troubled head; but the broad high- 
way 
Is fine and grand, for those who march in the 

light of day. 
There are so many eager faces to see, 
So many little children happy in the glory of 

their regime 
That one's heart responds with a song, 
And the glory is reflected in one's face, as he 

marches along, 
So after all, life is one great grand song. 

I wish I might feel so gay 
That the world would all sway 
With my strength of thought, 
And that it would carry us away, away, 
To the hills that are always gay. 

Thy heart hast ever dwelt in realms divine 
And now, my soul, thy life will reflect 

317 



In tones most sublime, all the beauties 
Thou hast gained in the darkest times. 

Watch thee well, I say, and never trust to 

others 
But thou thyself must sway, and by so doing, 
Thy soul with God shall stay. 

This is not a time for pruning, 
Rather nourish with tender care 
All the shoots, and later they will bear thee 
Some fine, fine fruits. 



Transfixion thou must bear. 

Thy courage, never fear! 

Thou wilt have enough, and to spare. 

Temples of love thou hast raised 
And soon thou shalt share, also praise. 

Gird on thy armour, stand out bold and free, 
Never caring for the world, 

Or what it thinks of thee ! 

I, with a wealth of love untold, 

Bend at thy knee, and beg of thee 

To unfold to me, thy soul so free, 

So that I may pour forth all my love, to thee. 



318 



Love plays many pranks, darting here and 

there, 
But you and I will hold him fast 
And compel him to go a long way back, to the 

past ; 
So that our hearts may be young and full of 

song 

As we travel this road along. 

Old Man Time has such a short space 

In which to gather his harvest 

That he is wielding his scythe with undue haste 

And making a lot of waste. 

Cease to trouble thy soul, for thou canst not 

make light 
Where the soul will not see it aright. 
Weary not thyself, but take the flowers of 

thought 
That are wafted to thee, leaf by leaf, 
Inscribe them with thy love from thy heart so 

deep. 
They will be sweet and fragrant and glisten with 

the morning dew, 
These rose leaves of purity that are blown to 

you. 

Three men of holy orders will visit this country 

once more 
And thou shalt see them right soon before thy 

door. 

319 



They bear a message for thee, that thou must 

join with them 
Some time later on their desert shore. They 

also bear 
A crown of jewels, from a soul who has gone 

before 
And will wish you to wear it, for their sakes 

once more, 
These three holy men from India's shore. 
They are before thy sight even now. So arise 

my soul, 
Thou wilt have a night of struggle 
And strife. The huge billow will roll, 
And almost engulf thy soul; but thou shalt 

emerge 
In the morning's light, a soul at last freed from 

its strife. 

A beautiful dream in which thou shalt see 
A garden of flowers all snowy and green, 
The dazzling purity of which sends forth 
A glorious sheen, to gladden the hearts 
Of the travelling teen! 

To thee be everlasting glory and freedom of 

thought. 
May thy soul continue to soar, 
'Till it reach God's most perfect part! 
Put forth all thy strength, to keep above the 



horde 



320 



Who would drag thee down to walk in their 
broken roads, 
As of yore! 

O my soul of high degree! 

Thou wilt catch the thoughts sent out to thee. 

So trouble not thy soul, 

By wondering if this or that were he ! 

Thy path wilt be shown unto thee, 

And it will lead straight to the Infinite Three. 

Thou blessed soul of purity! 

Thou hast grasped the simple truths 

That have been sent to thee; 

And all great things lie in absolute simplicity. 

I know that in the future I shall live 
So close to my highest ideal 
That my range of vision will take me 
Far beyond my now highest conception. 

Never count thy dollars, until they are safe 
In thy hand. In fact it is always a better policy 
To never count on anything, even when it is 
Right within thy hand! 

Thou canst round out by thy will and way. 

Thou canst bring all things to thy feet, 

If thou but give thy highest forces full sway. 

321 



Thou art very keen in thy sight 

And sense of tone, harmony, shading and depth, 

And of insight into the future life, 

Thou couldst bring all things to light, 

If thou cared to enter the strife. 



AURAS 

Each body is surrounded by an ether or aura, 
and according to the qualities possessed by the 
individual, so the color, shape and thickness of 
the aura is discernible to those able to dis- 
tinguish such fine substances. 

It is a most interesting study from all points. 
First, the color is sometimes a beautiful blend- 
ing of many qualities, as each one creates a 
separate color. Red is the anger sign, blue is 
charity, pink, harmonious thought, yellow, the 
intellectual color, green represents the jealousies 
(so the saying "green-eyed monster" is true). 
Brown is the even trait, levelling all things; 
purple or violet is the moral sign, being either 
bright or very delicate, the lighter shades rep- 
resenting finer qualities than the deeper shad- 
ings. Gray, cream or white, show how much 
of the body is in a pure state, health giving these 
colors their firmness and thickness. So you see, 
my friends, what a wide study it is. 

All the different shades of the colors men- 
tioned, and their blendings, greed, selfishness, 
lying, uncleanness of thought, all vary so, in the 
shading of auras. 

322 



There is an exquisite, soft green, that is sym- 
bolic of the highest, and is often confounded 
with the coarser green, the yellowish green, by 
people who judge hastily, or who have not 
delved deeply into the subject. If people could, 
or would cultivate the keener sight, they would 
soon be able to select their associates, with 
much less heartbreakings. They could instantly 
recognize qualities that would surely bring sor- 
row or joy: for while some people have certain 
qualities that are very attractive to us, they at 
the same time possess others that mean death to 
our peace of mind, and retard our soul's 
progress. 

And it would also enable healers and physi- 
cians to locate any impure part of the body, as 
each organ, in its normal state, gives a pure 
white light, the different shadings denoting the 
cause of inharmonious conditions. 

The condition may, or may not be the result 
of the patient's own thoughts, the cause going 
back many years, in some cases, when the re- 
sult of wrong thinking is handed down to an- 
other generation. With one half the care given 
to propagation, that is now expended on the 
breeding of animals, we would be purified in 
an amazingly short time. Think of the care 
given to fruit, flowers and vegetables, and birds, 
while God's highest thought breed in most 
cases without the slightest thought of conse- 
quences, or even a care of condition at the time 
of conception : desire being the only guide. But 
323 



I am digressing from my subject — it is such a 
wide one, that later there will be light shown 
to the world, and they must take it up. It will 
come so finely and purely, that it will be ir- 
resistible, the rush of pure thought flooding the 
land, like a great white light, bringing every 
dark corner into prominent view. 

PSYCHIC FORCE 

In the year 1909, there was a general stirring 
up of the higher sense, the keener sight, the 
force of light trying to spread itself over the 
land, which was eagerly taken up by those al- 
ready versed in the much-bedraggled arts of 
clairvoyancy, palmistry, astrology, and the many 
different branches of the science of divining the 
future, all leading to the one point, Light; but 
too often they are misleading, and carry one to 
utter darkness. 

If absolute honesty of purpose and purity of 
thought were practiced, the results would be 
astounding — gain, in most cases, being the only 
incentive to work of that kind. There are 
honest souls trying to give measure for measure, 
who ultimately will accomplish much good, and 
their reward will be great. 

It is a vastly interesting subject, capable of 
any depth to which we care to go. Full of 
charm, the unknown is always holding forth very 
enticing attractions. It is only when we be- 
come thoroughly conversant with any subject, 
324 



that it loses the stimulating incentive to further 
investigation. 

There has been a great deal written of the 
force known as " psychic," not any two writers 
agreeing on the subject. It is the most won- 
derful of all the gifts God can bestow on his 
people, and, rightly used, is productive of great 
good, opening an endless vista to those culti- 
vating it purely; but, misused, it is a force that 
leads to everlasting destruction, and I should 
like to put forth a plea to all not using it to its 
higher development, to change their course, and 
that right quickly. This is only put forth in a 
spirit of love for all mankind, and an anxiety 
to see all using to the highest degree the talents 
they have been given. Where much is given, 
much is expected. 

Everyone is possessed of more or less psychic 
force, and all have within them the power to 
cultivate it to an astonishing degree ; and, if each 
one developed, an amazing revelation would be 
given to the world — in truth creating a new 
heaven and a new earth. 

It is a comparatively easy matter to cultivate 
the psychic force within us. The first thing is 
charity for all, a desire to help our fellow men, 
instead of squeezing the last dollar out of every 
proposition that comes before us. To be sure, 
the one who pursues the course of crushing all 
in his path, may for a long time have success 
— but the end gained is not one to be desired; 
and until you have laid a firm foundation, it is 
325 



useless to build higher. After a firm foundation 
of charity is laid (and the results will astound 
you), the development moves on into endless 
attainments. All the higher things of life 
stand out so clearly, that it seems as if every- 
one must attain them. The process is so simple 
that people thrust it aside, looking for more 
complicated problems, forgetting that simple 
truths are great truths. 

I would urge that everyone make just a little 
effort for the higher development of the psychic 
power, and thereby gain truth and love for all 
mankind ; and, if we have a true love of human- 
ity, the everlasting harmony is gained. 

Very wonderful manifestations of power have 
been put forth, and it is possible, when the 
keener sight has been developed, to see and bring 
forth all the apparently hidden mysteries — 
but they count as nothing where the higher force 
has not been developed. 

SPIRITUAL LOVE 

Love, pure, spiritual love, rekindles all the 
fires of life, bringing new forces to work, in 
order to send forth the truths — truths that must 
be told. Most of the love given is selfish love, 
because it pleases the giver, or brings a large re- 
ward in a financial way. 

It must be entirely unselfish, to do any amount 
of good. One must cultivate the power of lov- 
ing, where it does not please — and when that 
326 



is accomplished, the world is before you, to con- 
quer, if you wish. All things will be made 
clear, and you will realize God is everything, 
for God is Love, pure and simple. God is 
Good, and in everything, and everywhere. 

Pure love is like a clear running stream, re- 
freshing everyone that comes within even seeing- 
distance; and the drinking in of it is like unto a 
taste of the everlasting heaven — for heaven is 
only a grand harmonious whole of love and good. 
You can have it in the smallest space, in the 
meanest home, as well as in immeasurable space 
and a palace. 

The love that will bear all things, for love's 
sake, persecution, reviling, ingratitude, nay, even 
death, is the love that brings one to the higher 
planes, at once; one grand step into the ever- 
lasting harmony — and the highest to be ob- 
tained is harmony. Nothing is above that; 
where everything blends in one grand whole, 
(and there are souls who will understand the 
still small voice of God, and who are able to com- 
prehend the bliss of harmony in their own 
bodies) but my friends, can you, who do realize 
it, can you for one moment, picture the bliss of 
souls, where each one is in perfect harmony 
with themselves and each other, making one 
eternal song of rhythm so perfect and pure, that 
to you on the earth plane, it would be too high, 
and would take the soul at once out of your 
bodies. 

This my friends, is only a small part of love, 
327 



and yet the whole may be contained in it. I 
pray it may enter into your hearts, and that you 
may all know your God, and listen to the " still, 
small voice." 

My best love and peace go with you all into 
perfect harmony. 

The light that enables us to see clearly the 
truths that God puts forth, is only another form 
of Love. All things radiate from love, it being 
the centre of all good. 

It enters into the heart of man like a rush of 
pure air from the mountain top, making it as 
sweet and pure as the heart of a babe. 

I pray God that all make it possible for the 
light to enter their hearts. 



CHILDREN 

Children, to my mind, represent all the charm- 
ing things of life, their childhood is so often 
tinged with the pathos of life to come. Un- 
consciously they live their future. 

I have watched so many little feet, some so 
steady, others very wavering, some stumbling, 
and still others making a very zigzag path. It 
is prophetic of their future lives. 

We change not so much as it would seem — 
simply traits strengthened or weakened, just as 
we think in our hearts; thoughts shaping them- 
selves into strong characteristics. 

They are so joyous over small things, or else 
328 



demanding many and varied amusements — an- 
other trait we do not lose. 

Honesty and truthfulness, when not shown in 
a child, rarely can be cultivated. They may be 
polished and hidden, all these traits, but you 
will always find them there, if you look deeply. 

Kindness and thoughtfulness are always 
shown strongly in the child, or an absolute in- 
difference to others' comfort or care. I find no 
half-way measures. 

Deception or frankness is one very strong 
quality that. is carried on usually very much in- 
creased by years. 

The sweet loving traits that appeal so strongly 
to us, always adding new strength with every 
year. 

They are buds of great promise, or else very 
unworthy weeds in this garden of God's making. 

I am searching for a jewel 

To place in thy crown, 

And I shall find it before the sun goes down. 

It may be a very modest little jewel, 

Or perchance a very brilliant one, 

Fit for the very centre of thy crown. 

I would that I could take thee in mine arms 

And carry thee safely o'er the rougher paths, 

So that thy strength could all be reserved, 

For the gaining of thy crown. 

But I can only whisper gently 

Little songs of love to thee, 

329 



On thy weary journey, which will take thee 
Far across the sea. There, when thou 
Hast reached thy haven, thou wilt find 
A crown prepared for thee, so I 
Shall whisper little songs of love to thee, 
To brighten up thy spirit, and make thee sing 
Sweet songs of joy for me. Thou dearest 
And bravest of souls, I daily pray for thee. 
That God may never withhold His face 
From thy sight so free. And ere the sun 
Has set, I will bring thy jewel to thee. 

I cannot give a poem, not even a rhyme 

But the words that I shall say, 

Come from this heart of mine. 

Why, I have made a rhyme, 

I wonder how it happened? 

Why, I call that fine! And I am as proud 

As Punch, to think I have made a rhyme. 

I never thought I could, 

But it is hard to tell, what is hidden 

In an oyster shell. It may be a pearl 

Of greatest price, that has come 

From the waters deep; or it may be 

A bad, bad oyster, at which we would not even 

Care to peep. But 

My friend, never slight a modest soul, 

For the wells of God may be hidden there so 

deep. 
There now! I have told my tale in rhyme 
And I am so happy, I fear I shall rhyme 

All the time! 
330 



Our souls are ofttimes seared, 
By the breath of a thought, and again 
We are transported to an ecstasy of bliss 
By the merest lifting of an eyelash. 

Thy power of song shall come forth soon, 

So rest thy soul, and do not use 

Thy strength and energy, all at noon. 

But reserve a portion for the soft night's moon, 

When thy soul can steal forth, 

To join the fairies, who revel not at noon. 

They will take thee to their dells 

All filled with flowers and exquisite shells 

And there they will spread a feast, 

One fit for the gods to see, 

Of nectar, and their finest fruits. 

All so dainty and delicate, that thou 

Them can scarcely feel or see. These fairies 

Of the night, that are awaiting thee. 

An island of beauty I see, such exquisite flowers 
And trees; of a deeper hue than is accorded 
To most of our views. The paths so gently 

wind 
And all lead to a home, where comfort and 

beauty 
Are combined. 'Tis a spot where I shall dwell 
And commune only with my God, whom I love 

so well. 



331 



Pain is the leveler, absolutely the only quantity 
Putting all on equal ground. 

Desire is that which rises uppermost in our 
sensibilities, created by a suggestion, sight, or 
even a thought, all in proportion to the strength 
of our mind, or of the object, or sender, or 
creator. 

Truth is that clear light which elevates the 
soul into balmy, billowy clouds of absolute peace. 

My soul has longed to soar amid the clouds, 
They form such exquisite billowy waves of 

rest, 
So soft and yielding, yet so immense 
That I could float, and float forever on their 

crest. 



Dream, soul, dream. Thou must not always 
Be on the wing. Close thine eyes, 
And pillow thy head, and rest thy spirit 

In dreams, sweet dreams. 



Along the weary march, grow the flowers 
Of purest love, sending forth a blessing 

From above ! 



332 



I am inclined to wonder if the stars read aright? 
Where are all the great, and glorious promises 
That come to us at night? Each twinkling light 
Shines out the brighter for the blacker night. 
So perhaps, our lives will gain in glory 
By the lessening of our promises so bright. 

Come, my soul, cease to fret and do thy work 
Which only thou knowest just the best. 
The myriads of stars all have their part 
In this grand, wide world of ours. 
So we, my friends, if we fail to carry our part, 
Disarrange the whole of our Maker's art. 
There is a space to fill in the beautiful 
Rounding of time. O my friend, be thou not 
Among the ones to 

There is a gate which leads to realms of beauty 
Both grand, and O so fair. It is high and wide 
With a strength that is more than many have 

the grace 
Upon which to bear. It yields not to every- 
one's call; 
Only merit has the key with which it to un- 
lock, 
And merit is gained only with a golden heart, 
And by absolute love of our part, only, is a 
golden heart. 



333 



Let us wander together in the rifts of light 

That are thrown from God's most dazzling 
height. 

We shall see most wonderful sights, 

That would be almost beyond our powers of de- 
light, 

So great is the beauty and glory of God's own 
light. 

There is only a shadowy curtain that hides it 

From everyone's sight. And it rests with the 
soul 

To very gently part it, and let in God's light. 

There dwelt a maid so fair, in a palace of 

dreams 
And journeys, that took her everywhere. 



O my soul of high estate, come down 

And sit thee here with me, 

In this quiet, modest room 

Where I have dwelt so much of late. 

Give to me of thy most learned powers 

That I may henceforth state 

So clearly and so brightly 

All the things of fate. So that none 

But truth shall with me abide. 

And that I may, in turn, send forth 

Only love and grace to all my kind. 

Come to me, and relate all the tales 

Of thy innermost state. 

Thou hast journeyed far, and in many lands 

334 



Thou wilt surely have 

Many themes on which we can wander 

Far, far into space. O my soul 

Thou hast so deserted of me, 

Wilt thou not come and help me 

In my work of putting forth 

Lines of truth and grace? O my soul 

Art thou coming on the wings of fate? 

Come, my soul, let us gather all the flowers 
Along the way. They are not hidden, 

But scattered forth each new day. 

My heart, why dost thou pant, and strive 
And struggle, for what thou knowest is not 
On the pages to be read, just yet. 
In all good time, thou wilt come into thine own, 
So rest thy heart, My OWN ! 

The sun will set upon a task accomplished 
A life finished, its time spun out 
To the last turn of the wheel, and the soul 
Launched upon the waves of God's love. 

Ere another sun has set, thou wilt know 
The hidden mysteries of many things. 
Thou wilt know the source from which all gifts 
Are drawn. The great and glorious lights 
Will shine straight into this life of thine. 
Thou wilt read the pages of the book divine 
335 



In which all love and light combine. 

And thy soul will flow out into strains sublime. 

Ah me, the brightness of thy soul 

Sheds its beams afar. 

Bringing love, light and cheer, 

Where all had been dark and full of fear. 



God sent us all a blessing 

Which we in our soul should cherish, 

Each to bring forth the talents 

That had latent lain; and we, 

Have we answered to our call? 

Are we sending out a blessing 

To one and all? Is our soul 

Expanding to the light of day, 

Bringing charity for all along the way? 

Then truly we are answering God's call. 

There is one thing that the world must learn 
Before the highest good can come; and that is 
The Golden Rule. Nothing is greater, higher 
Or more pure, than the thought thus inscribed 
" Do unto others as you would be done by." 

Light and sunshine everywhere 

In our hearts, our lives, our homes 

And even in our cares. 



336 



Come, come, little one, thou must mend thy 

ways. 
Eager footsteps thou must have, to do more 
Than thy plays. Thy tongue thou must fasten 

tight 
Or else thou wilt find thy life not so bright, 
For with all thy grumbling thou dost find life 

bright. 

Beautiful days, golden days, 
Are these of thy life's best time. 
When' all the Muses meet, 

To help thee rhyme. 

Thou must not stay too long, but up 
And away for a time, to gain the air 

Of song. 

My soul of light, I am always in thy sight 
To help, strengthen, cheer, and bring thee 

To a brighter light. 

Come, darling, be of cheer, 

Turn thy heart to the sun's bright rays 

And never allow a fear 

To enter thy mind, to quench any of thy cheer. 

Time has in store for thee 
Many a pleasant day, by land and sea 
So be of stout a heart, and free. 
337 



Coming, Love, coming, do you hear me Love, 
I am whispering words of adoration, Love. 
Put thy heart in tune with mine, Love, 
So that thou canst catch the finest line, Love. 

The wild winds do blow, and we are driven 
With their force, not to rest where we most de-. 

sire 
But ever on we must go, until we reach that 

land 

Where the wild winds never blow. 

The mysteries of the days are fast coming 

Into view. Many things that gleamed 

With strange fantastic hues, are now in the 

plain 
White light of everyday dues. 

There is a turn to be made right soon 

Which will require a firm, strong hand, 

A steady eye, and a will of force and might, 

So that thy bark will not strike a reef 

Or drift out into the dark, dark night. 

My Love, art thou happy in thy new estate? 
Is thy — is thy heart content ? 
Dost thou never wander back to the olden days 
When we in a garden dwelt? When our hearts 
Were pure, and full of love, and a blessing 
Was all we desired from above? 
338 



I cannot catch your answer, it is far too faint. 
O my love, my love, beware, beware, 

Ere it is too late. 
For thou wilt sigh for the garden, my love 
When thou art far away, and wouldst give thy 

life 
For a flower, from the garden of olden days. 

Come, merry be thy soul, merry be thy life, 
Sing for joy, and think not of anyone but me, 

My best loved light ! 

Wander, wander, all the day, till thy feet 
Have weary grown. Then, turn thy way to 
God 

And HOME! 



Art thou athirst for something fine 

And sweet? Is thy life not yet complete? 

Dost thou grope in the dark as yet? 

Hast thou not discovered the path to content 

And rest? Dost thou, blind soul, not know 

It is right within thy breast, and thou 

Art hunting far and wide, and slighting 

The gifts thy God has bestowed upon thy soul? 

He who always knoweth best the talents 

We each can apply. I pray thee open thine 

eyes 
And look to thyself, alone, for thy prize. 



339 



Content, my friend, content, 

Disturb not thy soul. 

Else thou wilt lose the finest strains 

That are wafted to thee 

From over the desert's farthest shore. 

O my darling, I list to thy voice 

As it comes across the sea, 

Bringing a strange sweet melody 

Of tones so divine, as to almost 

Lift my soul to thine. 

Some day I shall reach thy high estate 

And then thou canst sing of thy love 

And my fate. 

Oft I sit and ponder on the things of fate, 
And I truly wonder, what has come over 

everything 
Of late. Nothing seems to please the people 
Of any state. All are in a whirl, 
And go a mad, mad gait, to lose the sense of 

fear, 
Every scheme seems to work itself to nought, 
Even the days seem undecided as to their part. 
One time jumping on apace, then darting back 
To travel the same road twice in haste 
To gain their proper space. There must be a 

hand 
That guides these fates, with a wisdom 
Wider than our eyes can trace, 
Else there would be nothing but space. 
So I often sit and ponder what are the fates. 
340 



There is no telling how the stars come forth 

To greet the night. They simply shine out bold 

And bright, and each has its tale to tell, / 

If we could but scale the heights, and draw forth 

From the splendor of the sights, 

Pictures that would start us on a train of 

thought 
Both new and endlessly fraught with delight. 

Idly dreaming, 'twixt the night and day, 

I often see. strange sights. 

See? No, I do not see, but rather sense 

With my spiritual sight, a group of warriors 

Bold and eager for the fray. 

Or a line of ancients past my sight do stray. 

Then again some weary travelers 

On their homeward way. There a group of 

children, 
Happy at their play ; and then, ah me, 
Sometimes I see a long, long line of people 
Groping on the ground, their way 
And the scene will change. I see 
A great white light, so dazzling with its force 
And might, that I see faintly, beyond its depths, 
The Throne of the King on high. 
And beyond that still, a land of roses, 
Where we all may dwell, if we follow 

The great White Light! 

I wonder if in all your travels, 
This fine, bright day, 
341 



You gave me a thought, or a wish 
That I might away. 

Come, and in my garden we will walk. 

It is filled with all the flowers 

Of every land. Its paths are shaded, 

Cool and sweet; its fruits are luscious 

And the waters, rushing forth 

From many springs, carry healing 

In every drop it brings. We will scarce 

Desire to wander back to the noise 

And glamour of our daily life, 

Without the walls of this, 

My Garden of Life ! 

Ah, who has not felt the thrillings 
Of a kindred soul; the peaceful atmosphere 
That surrounds the whole of space, 
When we dwell within its light 

Of love and grace. 

Peace, love, peace! Do not flutter so, 
You are my captive, wherever you go. 
My thoughts bind you with a chain of love, 
So that where'er you are, 

You are my love! 

My hopes are now held high 
Of a time of festive scene, 
Of revel and dance, and all the things 
342 



That seem to be of import fine, 

And to which most of the people incline. 

If my soul will be satisfied 

I might abide; but I have a wide, wide fear 

That I shall be dissatisfied, and back 

To my quiet home, will stray my feet 

For there with my God, I can abide 

And revel in his most glorious care, 

Of song that is everywhere in my home alive. 

My soul will not athirsted be, 

I shall in a garden of dreams to dwell 

On my return from the world's mad whirl. 

The sun shines, the air is clear and bracing, 

Tempting me to go to the woods, 

There to revel in the shady nooks, 

To watch the squirrels darting here and there, 

Gathering up their winter's hoard 

Against the famine time to come. 

They are wiser than most of us, 

Are these squirrels of the wood. 

The days for dreams are gone 

I must work, and work, 

For my world will have only of song. 

My heart is not yet rested on its firmer base, 
But some day I shall dwell in peace 
Of love and harmony of thought, with one 
From whom I now am far apart. 

343 



October, October, October, 

Sweetly sings the morning air 

Of October's most delightful days. 

The warmth of Summer, with thy bracing vim 

Brings one to the highest time of the year 

When all things are glowing with a gold 

And scarlet light, making the woods a dream 

Of delight. Soon they will be bare, bleak 

And brown, and the gray mists will have settled 

All around. The fires will blaze on the hearth 

To give us the light of thy tones 

And thou shalt be gone, with only a leaf, 

To remind us of thy glorious reign, 

October, October, October. 

Hearts dwelling in sweet content, 

Lives mingling in a vast intent, 

Make a happy, peaceful home, or tent. 

what a dark, dark spot, 

1 wish I could blot it out. 
I have tried, and tried, 
But it will not rub out. 
Why, O why did I not know 
That it would blot my soul, 
Heart and life, that tiny deed 
That was not quite right. 

I will break the seal that has bound thee tight, 
I will set thy soul on its mountain height, 
I will bring thy life to a perfect light, 
344 



So that thy heart shall bound with delight. 
Thou Angel of God's most perfect sight. 

Well, my dancing joy, 
Coming on the wings of night, 
I truly am rejoiced 
To see thy face so bright. 



Cease from all thy sorrows, 
Rest thy cares upon my heart. 
It will carry them for thee 
Into God's most perfect part. 
There to be absorbed 
By the Angels of Rest, and I 
Will return with a crown 
For on thy head to rest. 

Softly flows the life that lives with God. 

It ripples gently on, through meadows 

And fields of flowers gay; and finally 

Joins the great broad river of everlasting DAY ! 

The river rushes on, with ever increasing force 
And takes each little twig and leaf to flutter 
Until they are crushed with its onward rush. 
It cleanses the firmer rocks, stones and pebbles, 
No matter how fine, and holds to us a lesson 
That we must cultivate a staunchness we all 
shall need 

In time. 
345 



Loving little thoughts ! How they spread ! 
Casting their glow over our heads, 
Enwrapping us in a veil of gauze so fine, 
Not perceptible to the ordinary eye or mind. 
But O what a protection from the evil ones 
That would rend ! A soul thus protected 
By the loving thoughts of friends, is free 
To wend its way to the gladsome end. 

Dreams are paths over which we travel 
Without bodily fatigue, but as much a part 
Of our life, as the daily toil and pleasure. 

Evil thoughts that fly, 

Cast a gloom where'er they go. 

They are deep depressers, 

Ofttimes causing death to all the hopes. 

And a soul deprived of hope, sinks, 

To go out, even as the flame of a candle 

Blown by a strong wind; so, one and all, 

Beware of the slightest depression. 

Respond, by sending a loving thought 

To some one soul, no matter whom. 

It creates a wave of love and harmony, 

And brings a return from some soul, 

Which helps to tide over the wave 

Of Depression, and so free thy soul 

To its upward flight. 

Come, love, come, is it not time 
I should see thy face? 

346 



Are our lives not intended 
To create some fine high thoughts? 
In which to give verse of our soul's best part? 
O come, my love, come. 

In the evening's silent shade, 

I will come to thee, and together 

We can create a work of art. 

We shall live a life of finest part 

You and I, my darling of my heart. 

I will love thee all thy life, 

Whate'er thy troubles be. 

My soul will always cling to thee. 

If thy care and sorrows bow thee low, 

I will gently force thee back 

To stand erect, and so put all thy foes 

Behind thy path, that thou hast yet to tread. 

I will love thee, love thee all thy life 

And my soul will be forever in thy sight. 

The life is short, the way is broad, 

That leads to unholy things not of God. 

His path is narrow and full of thorns 

And a continual fighting all the way along. 

But at the turning, it suddenly opens 

To a vision of a garden just beyond, 

Where the breadth, depth, height and length 

Are above the conception of mortal man 

And is a continual great, grand song. 

347 



Dreary days are coming so I must gather 
All the cheer and bind it O so tightly, 
So that I shall have no fear for lack of cheer 
When the days grow drear. 

Visions open out before me, visions of a land 

far away. 
Of a country full of mystery and charm, 
And where the higher thoughts carry full sway. 
The dreamy existence in the temples that are 

builded 
For our stay, is conducive to bring the forces 
To work their way. There we lose the rush and 

strife 
Of life to-day, and our souls can force their 

flight 
To the innermost light of God's beautiful way. 

If I could live in the light of the sun, 

In the glorious freedom of the cares 

That are daily run, 

I could write of the wonders that now are held 

Far out of sight 

Of those who live in this life's mad run. 

O for one grand song, in which to sing 

The beauties of our path along. 

All the merry sunshine, flowers and lives so 

gay, 
Give one such a sense of comfort all the way. 
The happy nod, and still happier smile 
348 



Of our friends who think us worth while. 
All tend to cheer the slightest part 
That might be drear. The bracing air, 
The children, happy at their play; the shops 
All burdened with their bright display, 
Make me dream of a song that some day 
I shall write, and give away! 

My love is fast engulfing thee in a long warm 

embrace. 
Thy life wijl flow out into channels wide 
And with harmony, thy songs 
Shall fill the entire space, giving to all 
An ineffable grace. 

The passion in my body almost drives 
My soul to any port. But no ! 
I think of him, who lived a life 
Of sweet intent. And then my soul 
But goes to God, and of the finer, 
Higher thoughts He does to me impart; 
And I in turn, in my poor way 

Give them forth from my heart. 

O sweetheart, what of the day? 
Is my way to be thy way? 
And is God's way to be our way? 
Sweetheart, what of the day? 



349 



Come, come with me, and I will show you 
Many wonders on the way, which otherwise 
You might not see, or bring to light of day. 

Forgetting, O my soul, am I forgetting? 
No, not the least little part of thy life. 
It is riven on my heart and in my life. 
And never shall I part. No, of the least 
Or the smallest of thy arts. 

Well, my man, how goes the world with thee? 

Thou art proud of thy life just now, 

And 'tis thou shouldst be. 

But be very careful, 

Or a stumbling block will appear, 

Right in the way 

And if thou push it aside 

With the least contempt, beware, 

Or it will crush of thee. 

And thy wife whom thou adore, will show out 

In color, to make thee deplore. 

The true inner soul will come to the fore, 

And thou wilt amazed be; so careful 

Of crushing thy foes ( ?) my friend, 

For in so doing will come all thy woes. 

Thou hast been very short-sighted, my dear 
Or thou wouldst have had a friend 
For thy life-long cheer. 
Thy heart so jealously cried 
That it carried its strain to the last long line 
35o 



And thou broke the chain that would have 

bound thee 
In bonds of love, and name. 
So now thou hast only thyself with which to 

abide. 



Thou hast not made the best of thy life, 
Thou hast given to others all thy light, 
With never a care or a thought for thine own 

delight. 
But now, my own, thou wilt come to light, 

And all things bright! 



Thou hast almost run thy course, my friend, 
In the shaping of others' lives. 
In thy life thou wilt make a success 
But of thy soul I would rather not write — 
It is too low for my pen. 



Thou darling soul, thou art so brave and true, 
Thou hast many a sorrow deep in thy life to rue 
But thou art ever in the line of the brave and 
true. 



Thou? Well thou hardly need 

A writing of thy life. 

It stands out bold and startling 

To the passer-by, and needs no pen of mine 

To give its cry. 

351 



Pillow thy head upon my breast 

And I will soothe thee into everlasting rest. 

O thou soul of purity, thou art so divine. 

Thou dost inspire thoughts of the highest, 

Finest kind. O my precious soul, 

My love divine, pillow thy head 

Upon this breast of mine. 

The heart, think thou that emotions 

Come from the heart? Nay, it but responds 

Tq the thought. Thought is everything. 

Life, air, flower, everything that grows 

Or is builded, is a result of thought. 

Even and odd, odd and even, 

Even and even, odd and odd, 

Is not our life so run? 

Can you better describe 

An ordinary life, or one 

That is higher run? 

No my friend, not if you write 

Till life is done. 
The world is so big, so wide and so vast 
And so filled with unutterable things. 
All this glitter and pomp and show, 
Are but masks to hide the hollowness below. 
But there is always a breath of the pure, sweet 

air 
And to those who are attuned, 
It brings a message from God 

That good is everywhere. 
352 



I will soon reach the shores of that glorious 

land, 
The land of the Christmas Time. 
O my, what a world of excitement and noise, 
With so many dolls, and so many toys! 
With tracks and trains, of cars with bridges 
And tunnels, and a station at " Boys." 
O that glorious Land of Christmas Toys. 

Sweetly chirps the mountain bird 

As he sits a dreaming in the sun. 

Away, away, I must away, to sunny climes, 

Until the winter's time has run 

Its course of cold and snow and ice. 

The days are gone of the falling leaves, 
The winter's cold comes on apace. 
The frosts sink deep, and the winds increase, 
And Lo, we are wrapped in a winter's fleece. 
Soft and light, and all things covered in a night. 
We should make ready for a time of delight, 
Of Thanksgiving cheer, and Santa Claus' flight 
From unknown realms, where he gathers his 

horde, 
That to us brings joy in a night. 
All our heart's desires he reads as he flies, 
And he smiles to think how very unwise it would 

be 
To grant all wishes that fly to the skies, 
And there are recorded in such a great big book, 
Until some time later, when each wish flies home 
353 



To its own, own nook. So beware of desire 
That fathers the wish. It may return 
A scourge, with which thou must dwell. 
I started to muse on the weather, but alas, 
I have drifted like a feather. Here and there 
My thoughts have gone, tossed by every wind, 
And I have lost sight of the weather. 



THE END 



354 



Jill 15 19M 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Oct. 2009 

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JIM 13 19" 



